Incorruptible
by neren
Summary: DLP Challenge. "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." The Dark Lord enacted a brilliant scheme to destroy his foes. Follow Harry and Dumbledore as they fight against Death Eaters, the Ministry of Magic, and fate.
1. Chapter 1:Chaos

A challenge from DLP requiring the use of the phrase, "You'll either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." One shot. I may turn it into a full story later on. Enjoy!

Incorruptible

They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape-

And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move…

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…"

Dumbledore scanned the room, eyes searching for something hidden, while a foreign language left his tongue. Through the pain, Harry felt his eyes open and saw the tall wizard glancing frantically around the Atrium. Hatred and pent-up emotions rose to the surface, years of torture endured at the Dursleys and at the orphanage, the filthy muggles…

The need to punish Dumbledore became all encompassing. A foreign emotion entered him. He wanted the old man to hurt, to scream in agony.

Holly and phoenix feather turned against the tall wizard, _'Greatness shall befall you, Tom Riddle,' said Ollivander_, and he yelled "_Crucio!" _

The Unforgivable Curse echoed around the Atrium and Dumbledore dove to the side at the last second, belying his advanced age. The creature brought a memory to the surface and Harry recalled the torment, freak they called him, just like Dennis and Amy Bishop. Anger filled his mind and the pain lessened.

"Harry, get a hold of yourself," exclaimed Dumbledore, fear and sadness lined his face. "You must repel him from your mind, think! Think of Sirius!"

Flashes of Sirius filled his mind. A Firebolt, a present at Christmas, red eyes turned green and a tear came loose. Dumbledore approached cautiously, his left hand raised and wand sitting loosely in the other.

"That's it Harry, you must remember. He cared about you deeply." The headmaster's voice was soft and calm, almost soothing even. Harry's scar erupted in white hot agony.

_Manipulation and Diversion! He doesn't care what you feel. _Visions of Dumbledore avoiding him filled Harry's mind. The cold attitude, the distant disposition, all led to proof that the old man sought to manipulate him in this moment. _It was Dumbledore's fault. Sirius left because he was tired of being locked up_. _He traded one prison for another. _Harry's vision turned red and anger manifested itself into being.

An Impulse Jinx snapped forward to meet the bearded wizard, only to be deflected by a Protego. Desperate to get through to the young teen, Dumbledore pressed forth with a verbal response.

"Close your mind, Harry! Let me help you."

_Help you? He has hurt you more than you have ever imagined. Eleven years in a cupboard with the Dursleys, treated like an aberration, and causing the death of Sirius Black. Strike him down. He will discard you when your purpose ends._

An image took shape in his mind of an Elbow disfigurement curse used on criminals in Albania. Harry mentally incanted the non-verbal curse and it rocketed out of his wand, leaving blue motes behind.

There was a bright flash as Dumbledore spelled the curse away. He leapt to action, a powerful jinx shot off with a bang. A memory of a younger Dumbledore took shape in Harry's mind. _Conjuration of precious metals should only be…utmost caution…_with blazing speed, a shining silver shield materialized out of thin air. The jinx struck the curved shield with a deep gong and blew it inwards so that it was now concave.

The former Supreme Mugwump opened his mouth but was cut off as water from the Atrium fountain shot forward and trapped the wizard in a swirling globe of liquid. There was a thunderous boom as lighting left Harry's wand but the wizard Disapparated.

Harry glanced frantically around the Atrium and roared, "Show yourself!"

The headmaster responded a moment later with Stunner and glowing golden ropes. Before the spells could hit him, Harry spun on the spot and Disapparated away. A moment later the darkness receded and the coils around his chest relaxed. The Curse of Blindness shot towards the venerable warlock's back but his elation was dashed when the curse collided with a blazing azure globe of protection. As if in prayer, Dumbledore gripped his wand with both hands before raising it to the heavens. The wand sliced downward as a beam of pure white light rocketed towards the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry crouched, and then jumped over the burning hot spell.

"Oh no, no, no, Dumbledore," chuckled Harry. "Just when the fun was about to start. Tell me, have you thought what you would do if the Ministry fell? Can you see the chaos? The sheep, when provided with order and control, fall happily in line. But when it falls apart, so do they. Do you know what it would take to turn them against each other?"

Harry raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore and the Master Legilimens spotted a glimpse of his thoughts.

"Ah, what is the saying Headmaster?" He mocked the warlock before responding to his own question. "Like whipping three muggles with one spell. Your father's own words?"

"That will not happen, Tom. I won't allow that to pass," Dumbledore replied with great force.

"Then stop me. We both know you won't hurt us. Precious Harry Potter, to what length would you go through to protect him," taunted the raven haired wizard.

Cold fury masked the old warlock and he responded by simultaneously Vanishing the air and charming it to repel away from the teen. The wizard was trapped inside the resulting vacuum.

Instantly, Harry held his breath, realizing that there was not much time before this duel would be over. His eyes widened as a memory rose to the surface…_With Transfiguration, one can increase the amount, and even change the very nature of the material you start with… _and armed with that knowledge, set forth to acquire oxygen. Harry's outer robes split and lengthened while wrapping themselves around his head. A Bubble Head charm popped into existence as the black robes faded to nothingness. _Enough air to verbalize several spells but only one was required…_

He opened himself to hatred, hatred of the person and of their mediocrity, and the desire to end a person's life. A multitude of visions entered his head, conflicting emotions raging inside of him and Harry incanted the final spell.

"Avada-" Harry began as a shrilling violet beam erupted from Dumbledore's wand, but it was too late.

"-Kedavra!" The violet color curse slammed into Harry's arm, rupturing the muscle and twisting the bone, a mere second before the Unforgivable left his wand.

_I am triumphant!_ A deep and agonizing pain could be felt in his wand arm and Harry plastered a triumphant grin on his face. A bronze statue crashed in front of Dumbledore, ready to take the curse for its master, only for the Unforgivable to miss and streak by the animated guardian. Dumbledore's cold fury vanished, crumbling into shock, horror, and then defeat. Likewise, Harry underwent a similar transformation, victory was replaced by fear and remorse as ruby orbs turned emerald green.

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, crashed to the ground with a thud. His features, frozen in death, spoke of terror and shock. This look was mirrored by the various Ministry workers who had witnessed the clash. To further agitate their bewildered state, Voldemort appeared without a sound at the foot of the former Minister. He glanced around the Atrium, causing many to scream in fright and seek escape. Others were rooted in their fear and watched the scene unfold. Voldemort gave Harry an exultant grin that looked gruesome on the reptillian face. Ignoring the bystanders, he addressed Harry in Parseltongue.

"_In the end Harry Potter, you'll either die a hero or you'll live long enough to see yourself become the villain."_

"Well done, Harry Potter." The English words echoed in Ministry workers' minds and destroyed the morale of many.

The Dark Lord raised his wand and with a great bellow, the Dark Mark materialized just below the roof of the Atrium, marking the downfall of three wizards who had tried to resist him. Several powerful spells rushed forth from Dumbledore's wand but the dark wizard was already gone, leaving nothing behind but the ethereal illumination from his Dark Mark.


	2. Chapter 2: Flight

Incorruptible

Chapter 2: Flight

The Aurors wasted no time and stunners rocketed out of their wands. With a nonfunctional wand arm, he could barely defend himself from the onslaught of spellfire. Crimson blinded his vision and he knew blackness would hit him but to his surprise, Dumbledore came to his aid. The tall wizard stepped in front of him and he found it awfully hard to see around the man.

"Stop," Dumbledore's command cut through the silent atrium. "This is not our enemy. Our enemy is the one who seeks to destabilize us, to demoralize us. We must not-"

While Dumbledore usually had every wizard hanging onto his words, the death of their Minister was too much. A limping wizard with unusually yellow eyes stepped forward.

"We must not allow Potter to leave the Ministry. He has committed treason. Hand him over, Dumbledore. You cannot protect him anymore."

Fear and panic rose to new heights. Would Dumbledore abandon him, after what he had done? He would be chained to the chair this time, as a real criminal. There would be no witnesses to support him. He gazed at the assembled Aurors and Ministry workers. Instead, they would all admit to witnessing his treasonous act and they would recite Voldemort's praise- _Well done, Harry Potter._ He was brought out of his reverie as Dumbledore dug an elbow into his chest.

"Harry, I'm afraid we must take our leave. Grab my elbow and whatever you do, do not let go. Rufus, we will continue this conversation on a later date."

The Aurors had moved into an attacking position. His heart began hammering as it hit him. Dumbledore would not leave his fate to the Ministry! He immediately grasped Dumbledore's elbow with his uninjured hand.

"Dumbledore, you can't possibly think about harboring Potter and taking on all of us. This is madness," the Auror named Rufus looked at Dumbledore in shock, but at the same time, pointed his wand against the old headmaster.

Dumbledore chose to chuckle while Rufus nodded to his men.

"No Rufus, this is madness," with a grandiose sweep of his wand the air exploded. Shockwaves exploded and wind roared around the pair of fugitives, sending the Aurors and those near them crashing to the ground. Screams broke out around the atrium and the Aurors scrambled to mount a response. Harry felt his hair whip around him and suddenly, it was as if electricity was dancing across his skin. As soon as the sensation occurred, the whirlwind of air caught fire and formed a protective cocoon around them. Despite the oppressive heat and the roaring blaze, Dumbledore's voice managed to pierce through the chaos.

"It was my intention that we Apparate. Unfortunately, the Aurors have managed to ward against our departure. However, there are few protections that have the ability keep a phoenix out. Fawkes!"

The immortal bird appeared before them and sang a note that warmed Harry's heart and eased the pain in his disfigured arm. The headmaster reached with a wrinkled hand and suddenly, they vanished in a torrent of flames. Dumbledore's spell faded instantly, leaving a handful of people bruised and battered. The former heroes of the wizarding world were nowhere to be seen.

They reappeared in the headmaster's office and Fawkes glided to his perch. Dumbledore acted swiftly, causing Harry's arm to flare with pain as the holly wand was torn from his grasp. The headmaster earned Harry's forgiveness by singing in a foreign tongue, his wand emitting a soft glow. Harry felt oddly detached, watching his arm move backwards through time as bone untwisted and flesh regenerated.

"My apologies Harry, given the circumstances in which we are currently facing, I could not risk another incident."

Ashamed by his actions, Harry tried to blurt out an apology but was interrupted before he could even begin. Dumbledore plopped into his customary chair and gestured for Harry to do the same. The man twirled his wand and two glasses appeared while a bottle of some amber fluid zipped from a cabinet. Harry did not realize how exhausted he was until he felt his back hit the soft chair.

"Sir," his voice croaked and clearing his throat provided minimal relief. "What are we going to do?"

Dumbledore responded by handing him a glass filled with the amber fluid before replying.

"This scotch was given to me at the Order of Merlin ceremony following the defeat of Gellert Grindelwald. It was to commemorate the beginning of new times, of a new life."

Dumbledore paused to inhale the scent of the amber liquid, causing Harry to emulate his actions.

"Ah, such truly wondrous notes. I propose a toast to our new life and good health."

It was powerful and burned his throat, unlike the mellow and soothing butterbeer.

"Sir, I couldn't stop him. He was too powerful and it was my," Dumbledore interrupted this thought, preventing him from drowning in guilt.

"Given the nature of the wizard that you were fighting, you could not have hoped to succeed. This is a monster who is older, cleverer, and more skilled than you are. Any wizard in your situation would have never regained their mind, their identity, and would currently be standing by his side right now."

The thought of being a mindless puppet to Voldemort sent chills down his spine.

"How am I still here then?"

Dumbledore's eyes regained a bit of a twinkle as he opened his mouth to respond.

"Love, Harry. It was your mother's blood, coursing through your veins and Voldemort's, that prevented him from completely destroying you."

Harry felt his eyebrows scrunch as confusion set in before it hit him.

"The resurrection ritual from last year," he said breathlessly.

"Well done, Harry. I believe your mother's blood protected you once again, and it may even protect you from certain death but that is merely conjecture and beyond the realm of proven theory. As you may have ascertained, while Lily's blood might grant you some protection, it is not a complete safeguard from all harm."

Harry's knuckles were white from the force of gripping the chair as panic rose within him.

"Then what do I do? What if he takes over again and I can't stop myself again?"

The rather calm headmaster raised his hands in a reassuring manner and spoke softly.

"Harry, I imagine the scotch may have tempered your emotions which would naturally lead to a stronger defense of the mind. I'd like to test your Occlumency to ensure that Voldemort cannot possess you in such a manner again. Perhaps Severus may have missed a crucial technique."

Before he could mount a response against Snape's teaching abilities, the world vanished. He was in an orphanage while the other kids stole his food, he was at Hogwarts learning transfiguration from the man who defeated Grindelwald, and then he was rushing through the Department of Mysteries in the Hall of Prophecies…_NO!_

Abruptly, the world returned and his vision cleared. Once again, Dumbledore lost the twinkle in his eye and looked absolutely startled, but suddenly, cold power emanated from the wizard. He brandished his wand and a Patronus dashed from his wand while he reached for the bottle of scotch.

"Drink?" Dumbledore didn't bother to wait for a reply and filled Harry's glass of scotch. They sat in silence, both wizards nursing their drinks while digesting the latest memories. It felt completely natural to Harry. The memories seemed so vivid, as if he had actually lived that life. But he knew it wasn't his memories. It was Tom Riddle's and this caused him to worry.

The knocking on the door broke the silence that had befallen the room.

"Enter," barked the venerable headmaster, and the door opened, allowing for Snape and McGonagall to enter the room. McGonagall appeared frazzled while Snape remained pale and shaken.

"Albus, Potter! You're both safe! Albus, what in the name of Merlin happened at the Ministry? The wireless has been claiming Fudge is dead and that the both of you and the Dark Lord were involved. The houses are in chaos and Umbridge is nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, the Aurors are at the gates of the castle and they demand entry. They have produced writs documenting Wizengamot order for yours and Potter's arrest," she breathed loudly, having spoken so quickly that her speech was almost incomprehensible.

Dumbledore raised a hand to calm down his stressed head of house while flicking his wand with the other hand. Several trunks glided from the man's private quarters and landed softly. The books, instruments and various knickknacks began packing neatly into the different trunks.

"Now now, Minerva, as with every piece of news that is reported, there are always distorted truths. Yet, it is true that Lord Voldemort has dealt a devastating blow against us. It was something that I could not have predicted but I will attempt to remedy this tonight. It is for that reason that I require your presence tonight, Severus."

Snape stepped forward without glancing at Harry and began his diatribe.

"Headmaster, I am always willing to provide any service that you should require. However, I must state that I do not wish to take part any action that involves Potter. Clearly, the boy is…" Harry had a scathing retort for the Potions Master but Dumbledore interrupted the greasy man with a softly spoken demand.

"Your wand, Severus. I require your wand." Snape looked dumbfounded and hesitantly handed it to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, I fail to see…" Snape was cut off as Dumbledore leveled his wand at the man, drawing a gasp from McGonagall and excitement in Harry.

"Yes, Severus, you do fail to see. We both failed to see what was right in front of us and now, the price has been paid. I need to know how you taught Mr. Potter the fundamentals of Occlumency."

Snape attempted to project an air of aloofness but without his wand, he could not but feel helpless in front of Dumbledore. Therefore, when Snape replied, there was a hint of a tremor in his voice.

"I attempted to teach Potter the art through practical demonstration and experience but he simply did not have the aptitude for such magic."

Anger boiled in Harry. What Snape did could not be considered teaching.

"He _lies_! Snape's idea of teaching involves throwing out the Legilimens spell and to defend it by, _clearing my mind_," Harry spat out that last bit, putting emphasis on Snape's aggravating instructions.

"And what of theory?" asked Dumbledore, his voice completely level. Snape now appeared nervous.

"I – I did not see it necessary." His anger exploded and without realizing it, Harry rose out of his seat and bellowed a command.

"_TELL THE TRUTH!" _

Harry commanded with such force that it shot chills down Dumbledore's spine while Snape lost all color in his face and stepped backwards, clutching his arm. McGonagall almost did not recognize her student, such was the might of his command.

Alarmed by Harry's response, Dumbledore spoke once and then jabbed his wand at Snape.

"Allow me to gather the truth, Harry. _Legilimens!_"

Snape dropped to a knee and collapsed to the ground after a few heartbeats. Sweat poured down his face and Dumbledore began to show signs of exertion, his eyebrows furrowed. McGonagall twisted her hands with agitation, looking as if she was fighting against herself. Suddenly, it was over and Dumbledore saw what he needed. His lined face took on an unnatural look of contempt and disappointment.

"You were given a task in which I had hoped would ease old wounds and forge new relationships, instead you have failed me. You have failed to protect him, and even worse… Severus," Snape panted heavily. Black eyes met green and Dumbledore drove his point home, tearing not through the man's mind but through his heart. Dumbledore's words cut into him deeper than any spell possibly could.

"Even worse, you have failed her."

This statement sent Harry's thoughts racing. He had his mother's eyes. How did Snape fail her? He was a Death Eater. But what alarmed Harry the most was the odd noise that was coming from Snape. His greasy hair covered his face but there was no mistaking that noise for what it was, he was crying.

Dumbledore left the defenseless man on the ground and turned to face his deputy headmistress. She appeared to be in shock at Dumbledore's actions.

"Minerva, your first action tonight will be to allow the Aurors into Hogwarts. Your second and perhaps, most precious task is to ensure the safety of the students for they shall no longer be entrusted in my care. This I leave in capable hands. Finally, what you have witnessed in the last quarter hour is my attempt at fixing my mistakes. Forget what you have seen and what you have heard, for there is a lot that you do not know and without such knowledge, would only lead you to the wrong conclusions."

"Albus, while I don't agree with or understand what happened tonight, you can't just leave. The castle is a safe haven. Without you here, it will not be as safe for the students."

"The charges of high treason placed against Harry and I would mean that we would be occupying this castle unlawfully. I think we'd rather not have hostage taking added to our list of crimes," the headmaster appeared awfully nonchalant about his criminal status, smiling at his little joke.

"No, Harry and I must embark on a journey which shall hopefully prevent this catastrophe from happening again. I must ask that you rush to the gates with haste, otherwise the Ministry may levy such heavy charges against you as well."

McGonagall appeared frozen with indecision, unsure if wireless was correct about Dumbledore's mental faculties but she relented and bid them luck. She spared Snape a glance but sensing that he still upset, left without saying a word to the Potions Master.

Dumbledore shrunk the trunks to the size of a matchbox and placed them in his breast pocket. A similar sized trunk zipped through the open window which Dumbledore then tossed to Harry. From the markings on the object, Harry realized Dumbledore had secured his own personal effects. Grateful that he was not leaving with just the clothes on his back, he thanked the professor.

"I really appreciate it. Where are we going, Professor?"

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to grasp his arm while Harry peered around the barren office.

"A place which shall heal your mind and provide you with the relief that you seek. We are heading to the Swiss Alps. There you shall find your answers."

Thoughts of Ron and Hermione and England rushed through his head.

"But sir, what about Ron and Hermione? What about…" Anticipating the next question, Dumbledore interrupted the young wizard.

"Fear not Harry, you shall see them once more. We shall return one day," Dumbledore turned forcing both of them to reveal their backs to Snape. His voice oozed with such disappointment that Harry almost felt bad for Snape, almost. The greasy bastard deserved it.

"I expected more from you, Severus. Remember what you once promised me. Return to him now, after you have composed yourself. If you should fail me again, the truth shall be set free."

As the battalion of Aurors rushed up the slopes leading to Hogwarts, they spotted a burst of flame from the seventh floor and knew that they had been too late. The two wizards had fled.


	3. Chapter 3: Leap of Faith

While the sun had been setting as they fled from the British Isles, here it was absolutely dark and their only source of light was from the heavens. The moon was a glowing crescent, surrounded by many stars which could only be seen far from the light pollution cast by the city. Numerous peaks of mountain, capped with snow, rose out to meet them. Meanwhile, the trees provided them with much needed concealment. Below their vantage point, Harry spotted numerous specks of light radiating from the towns below.

A lake adjacent to one of towns caught Harry's eye, causing him to turn to Dumbledore.

"Sir, where are we? Is that the healing spring that you were talking about?"

Dumbledore responded by pulling off his shoes and motioned for Harry to do the same. Were it not for the absolute seriousness that he had seen today, he would have thought that Dumbledore had indeed lost his sanity. Harry complied, trusting the older wizard's judgment. Dumbledore responded while poking and prodding with his wand, shaping the shoes as he saw fit.

"We are at a place which contains incredible history, tracing its roots back nearly a millennia ago. Following my education at Hogwarts, this was one of the first places that I visited. This place holds many secrets."

Dumbledore returned the pair of shoes to Harry. It now resembled the pair of hiking shoes he had seen Dudley's collection of unused gifts.

"Professor, that still doesn't answer my question."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise while putting his foot into the pair of transfigured boots.

"Ah, my apologies, Harry. We are on the opposite side of Saint Moritz, the town you see below you, in the southeastern part of the Swiss Alps. The body of water which had drawn your attention earlier is a simple lake."  
Harry peered around the embankment, seeing nothing but trees and mountains.

"Are we going down then? Is it below us?"

Instead, Dumbledore nodded in the direction of the trees and tilted his head upwards, seemingly searching for something hidden. He turned to Harry, looking much less stressed despite the events that had occurred earlier, and smiled.

"Like all good journeys that involve self discovery and unknown magic, the hero must often traverse through the mysterious forests or to some foreign land. We will do both."

Their arrival to this serene, majestic place of nature had soothed Harry's fears and doubts. His past worries seemed almost insignificant in this wondrous land. It was almost magical. Perhaps this was one of the secrets that Dumbledore was talking about. But the man's statement about the hero weighed heavily in his heart, causing him to see flashes of his earlier actions.

"Hero, Professor? Is that what I am, what we are? Even after the event at the Ministry, do you still think that I am a hero?"

The twinkle in his headmaster's eyes dimmed and the man placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. Sadness crept into the man's voice.

"So long as you walk the path of the righteous, you will always be a hero even if the people do not understand you. You are the hero the people need, just not the one that they need at this moment. And on the day when they will require your help, you will do so without thought, rushing to their side for that is who you are, a hero."

The words inspired Harry, providing him with much need strength, emotional and physical. Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder and then Harry opened his mouth to respond.

"Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled, looking very much like the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and not like a headmaster.

"You're very welcome, Harry. Now, we must begin our journey post haste. If our arrival should coincide with the moon reaching its apex, then we will have gained the highest possible benefit from the magic. Which I estimate,"

Dumbledore pulled out a pocket watch that contained twelve hands which was fitted with little planets.

"…will take us approximately two hours and eighteen minutes. In the meantime, I will send Fawkes out on an errand and then we will take action not with our mouths but with our feet."

Dumbledore procured several sealed envelopes from one of his trunks and proceeded to tap each envelope with his wand, causing it to flare with a green color. For a brief second, Harry thought he spotted glowing green writing but it was gone, leaving him with nothing but a fuzzy afterimage. The man then produced what appeared to be two hot peppers from his inside his robe and placed one in his mouth before giving the other to his phoenix. The bird ate the pepper with delight and then took the envelopes in its talons, disappearing with the same flame that had brought the two wizards to Saint Moritz. They turned and stepped into the trees while Dumbledore paused to address Harry.

"Until I am certain that you are no longer susceptible to foreign influence, I cannot return your wand to you. But fear not, you shall not need your wand."

"Why is that, Professor?"

"Because you are with me."  
With that, they stepped into the dark and began their quest for knowledge.

-

The trees rustled, giving off the sensation the copse was alive. Thin silvery light from the moon penetrated the leaves and the branches, creating small patterns on the ground. They walked in silence and without wandlight for Dumbledore did not want to alert any who might be watching. After some indeterminate amount of time, they stopped when they abruptly reached a wall of rock leading up to the mountain top. The only way forward would be to climb the steep mountain or to go around it. Dumbledore craned his neck, looking up but it seemed that he was not staring at what was in front of him but rather, he was staring at something beyond it.  
His next few words did not bode well for Harry's physical condition.

"Now Harry, we climb."

He gaped at Dumbledore, surprised by Dumbledore's plan. His own legs were sore and his lungs were dry and burning from the cold, thin air. He could not imagine having to climb up the rather vertical rock, let alone image that the headmaster possessed the strength and endurance to perform such a feat.

"Sir, is there any way for us to go around it? I don't think I have it in me to climb that."

Dumbledore walked to the wall and Harry expected him to draw his wand, charm or magic their way up the mountain but once again, he was surprised by the man's actions. The headmaster proceeded to climb unaided as if he was in the prime of his youth.

"Fear not, Harry for as daunting as the task may seem, nothing is impossible so long as we have the will."

Exhausted and worn out from the day's events, his body protested as he took after Dumbledore and felt the cool, hard rock beneath his hand. After half an hour of climbing, he was panting from sheer tiredness. On the other hand, Dumbledore appeared not to be tired at all. It was impossible. As if he had heard Harry's thoughts, the man addressed his astounding strength.

"It is unthinkable is it not? That a man my age should surpass a strong, healthy young man like yourself?"

Once again, the man had no problem projecting his voice and did not even appear to be short of breath. In contrast, Harry could barely draw enough air to respond to the former headmaster of Hogwarts.

"How are you doing that? Did you," he panted and pulled in more air to relieve his burning muscles.

"…cast a spell or enchantment of some sort?"

Dumbledore placed his foot on an out cropping of rock and part of it crumbled, sending debris down at Harry.

"Neither, Harry. There is more than one way to use our magic, to shape the impossible. A wand and incantation is one way for us to manifest our dreams. Yet, there are other methods, unknown to many except in their subconscious where they sometimes find it within their power to achieve extraordinary feats of magic. This, my friend, is true magic. Almost limitless in power and bound only by imagination and belief."

Dumbledore had answered his question but only confused him further and left him with more questions.

"Professor, I don't think I understand."

Dumbledore chuckled, sounding very carefree.

"Do you remember what you told me, at the base of the mountain?"

His hands were raw and Harry was pretty sure that his hands were callused.

"I told you that I didn't have it in me to climb this."

Dumbledore stopped, slowing their progress up the mountain.

"Very good and where are we now?"

Harry looked around them and then looked down towards their starting position. They had not made it very far.

"Maybe a hundred or two hundred feet, why?"

Dumbledore flipped his pocket watch open and pressed a button on the side of it. Whatever he was looking for, it was good because the old man appeared satisfied.

"Would it be inconceivable to suggest that perhaps we have climbed much further than a few hundred feet? Look again, Harry and tell me what you see."

Harry looked downwards again and what he saw was so shocking that he almost lost his grip and would have fallen to his death. Like Dumbledore had implied, they climbed not just a few hundred feet. They were now halfway above the mountain.

"Professor," he gasped, breathless with wonder and shock. "How is this is possible?"

"There are places on this earth that do not follow the rules of nature and science. You may find more or less time has elapsed. At other places, the most damaged man may come to walk once again, healed to the point that even us wizards would find it to be a miracle. In fact, some wizards have reported feeling the presence of god himself."

Dumbledore started their climb once again. Though instead of moving up the mountain, he now shuffled to his right.

"Harry, I must ask. Are you a man of faith?"

Harry pondered the man's question. Sure, they went to church during Christmas and Easter at the Dursley's but he had never given it much thought.

"I suppose I am. Why do you ask?"

Suddenly, Harry felt his hand come into contact with wet rock and immediately stopped. A thin stream of cool water was running down the side of the mountain, running off the top of some peak that he could not see. The water disappeared below him but he did not see it form a body of water of any type. Dumbledore made the first move and crossed over this stream on the side of the mountain. As soon as Harry crossed over, a sensation of lightness and hope entered him.

"Then I must insist that you place your trust in me. For every leap of faith that we take, we find that it only leads us to the next great adventure."

As soon as the words left the wise wizard's mouth, he jumped. Reaching out to grasp the older wizard's robes, anything that would help save the man, he felt nothing but air. Harry yelled, calling the professor's name but the man dropped passed him. Looking below him, Dumbledore was free falling to his end. But maybe, it was possible that this was all part of the plan and that Dumbledore would survive. Trusting that the headmaster was correct, Harry steeled himself and dropped through the cold air.

Wind was rushing around him while his heart began pumping so furiously that blood was thundering in his ears. The mountain grew taller as gravity pulled him downwards but all of a sudden, his body made contact with water and he plummeted deep underneath the surface. Realizing that there was no pain, he immediately swam to the top, guided by a soft light that danced across the surface.

A strong hand grasped his shoulder and pulled him onto dry land.

"You are now standing in the same spot that stood in when I first discovered this wondrous place."

Harry pulled in heaps of air and glanced around him. It was dark out yet everything was visible as if he had somehow gained the ability to see in the dark.

"Professor, the light is strange here. There's something to it. It is as if everything is glowing."

Sure enough, the light the guided him to the surface was the same light that appeared to permeate everything here, from the trees to the rocks and even the water seemed to possess this ethereal glow.

"Very astute, Harry. I must commend your keen senses. The light here behaves much differently than it does anywhere else on this earth. Here, the rules which bind nature are much weaker. Tell me, what else do you see?"

While Harry was observing his surroundings, Dumbledore placed a cupped hand into the water and scooped out and handful of water to drink.

"Ah, this is simply divine. It is perhaps, the cleanest and purest source of water in the world. My deepest regret is that I cannot bottle it and take it with me."

"Why is that?"

"Well Harry, the moment this water leaves this place, it becomes ordinary. No, that is incorrect. It would be more apt to say that it becomes _tainted_."

Harry drew in a breath, enraptured by this mysterious place.

"Tainted, sir? What does that?"

Dumbledore ladled more water with his hands, drinking as if he was dying of thirst.

"Can you posit a guess, Harry?"

He looked around and noticed something immediately. There was nothing else here except for them. Everywhere he looked, he saw no signs of life except for the trees. Then, he realized what Dumbledore wanted him to see.

"Professor Dumbledore! The water, it's flowing up!"

Sure enough, the stream of water which had been flowing down the side of the mountain formed what appeared to be a waterfall, leading to this spring. But that was wrong. Instead, it wasn't a waterfall. The water was streaming upwards, stretching up the mountain reaching to the stars. Dumbledore began fiddling in his robes for something. The man pulled from his drenched robes, the twelve handed pocket watch.

"Correct once again, Harry. And now it is time. Enter the water with me, if you will."

They steeped back into the spring, Dumbledore leaving his questions unanswered once again.

"Now Harry, have you ever learned how to swim?"

The Dursleys, as terrible as they were, taught him to not drown himself.

"Yes, sir I know how to swim. Otherwise, I wouldn't have made it past the second task in the Triwizard Tournament."

Dumbledore chuckled, peering once more at his watch.

"That was an awfully ingenious use of Gillyweed. Even one unlearned in the skill of swimming would have succeeded at getting to their target. Now, I trust that you are aware of the breathing exercise young children must do to become comfortable in water?"

Harry remembered quite well though it couldn't be called an exercise if Dudley was shoving his head underwater while he had to blow bubbles in it.

"I remember pretty well."

"Then on the count of ten, instead of breathing into the water, I want you to inhale the water."

He thought back to the leap of faith that he made and saw where it brought him. This time he wasn't afraid and when Dumbledore counted down to one, he plunged his face into the cool surface and took in a breath. As the water entered his lungs, all of his fears and worries melted away. Then, the images flashed in his head. All of a sudden, he began to experience it all.

-

They were climbing down the rock wall, him and the other two from the orphanage. They were terrified, thinking that they would fall and hurt themselves. But he had made sure that they wouldn't be hurt. He was special and he wanted to show them how special he was. They entered the cave and then, his vision flashed.

Freak, the chubby boy called him. Dudley and his gang chased him all around school and suddenly he ended up on the roof, leaving the boys confused below. Then, it melted away and Dudley became one of the older boys at the orphanage.

"You're a little freak, Riddle."

It made his blood boil and then they pinned back his arms and began pummeling away. They were in a cold stone room at the orphanage and no one usually came down here. No one would come by to help him. He wanted it to stop. It hurt so much and they wouldn't stop even though he cried out in pain. It was unbearable and he wished that they would feel what he felt and suddenly, the biggest boy let him go.

They were all crying out in pain, falling to their knees with raised arms to defend from some unseen aggressor. He watched, fascinated as invisible blows landed on their arms, face and presumably the rest of their body. He heard something crack and when he turned, blood was oozing from the nose of sandy haired boy. He stepped up to the leader and spoke.

"No one pushes me around. I'm not a freak. I'm special and one day, you will regret it all."

With that, he slammed the heel of his shoe into the boy's temple right as the door flew open.

Another flash and he was in a classroom at Hogwarts, the spring breeze blew through an open window, making Dumbledore's auburn beard fly from the tucked position in the man's belt.

Complex magical theorems decorated the board and he volunteered to demonstrate to the man who he hated so much.

"Mr. Riddle, would you be willing to lend your rather prodigious skill for this demonstration?"

The yew wand whipped in the air, and he did not need to glance at the diagrams, skilled that he was.

"Certainly, Professor. I believe this is an appropriate use of element transfiguration."

The bundle of cloth rose into the air and split itself in half. One half spun and became a glass goblet while the other half became water that splashed into the cup. He twisted his wand and suddenly, glass became metal and water became wine.

"A drink for you, Professor Dumbledore. A toast to the man who defeated the Dark Wizard Grindelwald!"

The other student's materials burst into goblets with pungent wine, awing them with his incredible power and skill. Dumbledore smiled and did not look amused.

"Twenty points to the most accomplished student Hogwarts has ever seen, barring myself of course. That was a most extraordinary display of magic and your NEWT examiner will marvel at you skill on this coming month. Do humble yourself and do not forget liquid to solid transfiguration."

The wine leapt out of the goblets before the students could drink it and formed into wood while the goblets became sharp iron. The headmaster's blue eyes pierced into him and he felt as if all his secrets were laid bare, but anger rose in him and he made sure his Occlumency had not failed. He smoldered at the insult and would use the old man to create a Horcrux one day.

Unexpectedly, the visions ended and Dumbledore pulled him out of the water. The memories were so vivid. It was as if he had lived it. Then he realized it. Despite the disturbing insight into Voldemort's mind, his head felt clearer than ever.

"Harry, what did you see?"

He felt better than ever, empowered even and perhaps healed.

"I saw him, Professor. Lord Voldemort. I saw him in his youth and I saw him at Hogwarts. It was so real, as if I was there and I had lived it. He made…"

Harry trailed off, eyeing the wand that was now in Dumbledore's hand. A thought entered him, maybe it would work. Dumbledore made to respond but Harry cut him off.

"Sir, would it be alright if I borrowed your wand or mine? Just for a minute. I want to try something out."

Dumbledore appeared cautious, his keen gaze met Harry's and suddenly he could sense Dumbledore in his mind so he _pushed_. The headmaster withdrew his magic immediately and with it, his demeanor changed as well.

"Marvelous! It was rather rudimentary but I must applaud your attempt. Now that I am less worried about an attack on my person, I will no longer hold your wand for safekeeping."

Dumbledore handed him his wand and it felt wonderful. The holly wood warmed his fingers but he was still preoccupied, not sharing Dumbledore's enthusiasm.

"Sir, would it be alright if I performed magic here? Given the saturation in the air?"

The headmaster lost some of his energy and appeared thoughtful.

"You would be absolutely correct in thinking that the magical saturation will hide us from any who would look for us. The Trace itself would not have an effect here, having traveled as far as we have. Though I wonder, where did you come to find such knowledge, Harry? I have not yet begun to instruct you."

Harry pointed the wand away from the headmaster, not wanting to provoke an attack and responded to the man's question with his magic. The rock to his left split in two and half formed a crystal goblet, though misshapen, and the other half formed murky water.

"This is the part where you transfigure the remains into sharp iron and wood, Professor."

He had never seen Dumbledore's face undergo so many transformations but again, the man's features shifted into shock and then into pensive thought. While the man was thinking of a response, Harry asked a few questions of his own.

"Professor Dumbledore, you never answered my question earlier. What is this place? What happened to me under there?"

He inclined his head to the water, where he somehow gained memories of his nemesis.

"Most importantly, where are we?"

Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie and at once, his eyes took on a faint twinkle as thoughts raced in his rather impressive brain.

"I can only posit at what happened to you underneath that water for your response was quite unnatural. I speculate that it is due to the unique bond that you and Voldemort share but I will go into this at a later date. Come, we must set up camp and prepare ourselves to rest. Answers come to us in our dreams and I intend to have many dreams tonight."

The man helped him out of the water and they began towards a wooded area, secluded and easy to fortify. Dumbledore turned to him and answered his most curious question.

"Where we are, Harry is only an educated guess and as such, may be completely wrong. But I believe that we are in one of the many scattered pieces of Eden."


	4. Chapter 4: Occulumency

Incorruptible  
Chapter 4  
Occulumency

Bits and pieces of his dreams darted in and out of unconscious memory, leaving Harry with a jumble of unordered dreams. He was eleven when Hagrid came to visit him, to tell him of his birthright. The half-giant's cake was squished yet Harry appreciated him all the same, glad to have cake for once on his birthday. It warmed his heart deeply, to have made his first friend.

Suddenly, he was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, unfamiliar with the faces around him. This was a new world, one that would allow him to carve his place in history. He was special, even beyond all the others here that wielded same power that coursed through his veins. Tracing a finger on the yew wand, he raised his head to peer at the enchanted ceiling. The stars shined upon him with their ethereal glow, pulsating at times as if to confirm his thoughts. Sure enough, when the Sorting Hat was moved near him, it yelled Slytherin, not needing to come into contact with his head unlike the other students. Tom Marvolo Riddle broke into a grin, truly feeling happy for the first time that he could remember. He finally had a place where he belonged.

The world became jumbled once more, incomprehensible scenes flickering through his mind. Coherence started once more and he was flying his broom for the first time, wind sweeping his hair back and making it messier than it already was. The setting sun lit Howgarts with such a radiance that it was breathtaking to look at. Without realizing it, his feet were on the ground and he had been walking. From where he did not know and yet he crossed the grounds with purpose, the knowledge he acquired caused him to move with haste. Slughorn was the man he was looking for. If he possessed the knowledge, and Tom Marvolo Riddle was certain the Potions Master did, for his instinct was never wrong, then this would be the second best day of his life. With a Horcrux, he thought, it would be the second best day of his soon immortal life. Stopping once to gaze at the majestic castle, the one place he called home, he reflected upon its beauty before moving onto his destination.

The dreams flashed through his head, and many would be lost upon waking though some would stay ingrained in his head as part of his memory. Eventually he woke with a start, hearing the sound of Dumbledore whistling some tune. The smell of breakfast permeated the air and his stomach grumbled with hunger. As he readied himself to get out of bed, he could not help but think how vivid the dreams were, how real they felt. Yet it was somehow less potent, unlike the memories he gained underneath the water. All the same, he felt disturbed to have the dreams of Voldemort's childhood.

Thought, what really alarmed him was that it felt as if it was his own childhood. He could feel every emotion that ran through the young Tom Riddle. They were so similar yet so different. Both were jubilant to discover that they were wizards and both were at their happiest when they were sorted, that it was not some horrible joke. Very much like Harry, Riddle was ecstatic once he had found his place. With a start, it dawned upon him that during Riddle's walk to find the man named Slughorn, Riddle also considered Hogwarts his home, the one place they both never wanted to leave from.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts running through his mind, he entered the common room. The fire crackled while the wood occasionally whistled. Polished stone decorated the elegant fireplace, created by Dumbledore's masterful spellwork. Leaves were dancing to a melody that whispered through the branches and the trees around them. In all, Harry thought it was quite relaxing as he made his way to the common room couch, also transfigured and charmed by the former headmaster. Though the cushioning charm provided him with great comfort, it often masked the couch's return to its natural state. That is, the charm would unravel the instant Untransfiguration had occurred, leaving him lying on a log without the slightest bit of warning. On the other hand, the armchair he created from a combination of his own talent and Voldemort's memories was nowhere near in an acceptable condition. Dumbledore, the eccentric man that he was, chose to sit in that chair.

"Good morning, Harry. A fine morning is it not," the man questioned, sipping on some rather aromatic coffee.

"Sir, I saw him again. Through his eyes, that is."

Dumbledore closed the little book that he had been writing in and placed it in his breastpocket. His face shifted from pleasant to a more serious state.

"Good or bad, Harry?"

He thought back to all the memories that he had seen throughout the past few weeks and they all were the same.

"Good, Professor. Like all the other dreams, it's been good. But Professor Dumbledore, you never explained to me about this term that keeps appearing, something that I don't quite understand."

He steeled himself, at once nervous yet excited, unsure of the cause of these emotions.

"Could you explain to me what a Horcrux is?"

Dumbledore peered at him over his half moon spectacles, the light glinting off its golden frames. The man's eyes seemed to peer through him, suggesting that all of his secrets were laid bare. A corner of his head felt light while an almost imperceptible sensation of itching took place beneath his scalp. _No, _he thought and gingerly resisted the Dumbledore's intrusion. The former headmaster pulled back his attack immediately. Dumbledore was a great Legilimens, but he was an even better teacher. As such, he was able to perceive the subtle invasion aided by a few weeks of mental healing and superb instruction.

"Well done, Harry. What tipped you off to my presence?"

Harry buzzed with excitement. The last time he had been able to detect Dumbledore in his mind was when he asked for his wand. He learned that Dumbledore had applied much more force that time, thinking that he would be going up against the mental fortifications of Voldemort. The man scaled back the strength of intrusion during the Occlumency sessions, reducing it so that it decreased each day. It forced him to take notice of the most minute of changes in his mind, greatly enhancing his perception within him and outside of him.

"My head was itching, Professor. Ever so slightly, like as if I hadn't showered."

The former headmaster laughed, breaking his serious mood.

"Thankfully, I've provided us with accommodations so that we would not have to face such unpleasantness from each other."

"And the accommodations are great, Professor. The water from the shower is always at a perfect temperature."

"Excellent, but we are digressing from the point. To answer your question, I'm afraid you must wait a bit longer. The seriousness of such a dark subject can only be discussed after our stomachs are full and our needs fulfilled. Only then, will our minds be up to the task. So, let us enjoy this wonderful breakfast that I have cooked, all without using a single spell."

The breakfast was quite wonderful as Dumbledore had said. The wizard was a man of many talents and he seemingly excelled at all of these talents. Very much like a polymath that Dumbledore had once met , a man named Walter Russell.

"The most important piece of knowledge I have gained from this man is his theory of light."

Harry bit down on the piece of bacon, eliciting a loud crunch. Dumbledore took a swig from his glass of pumpkin juice while Harry questioned him.

"What was his theory, Professor?"

Dumbledore took a moment to respond his brow furrowing, trying to formulate the correct words.

"Light is truth. I fear I am remiss for not quoting Russell's exact words but he suggests that light- which shines from the sun, the stars, the moon, and even lamp posts – holds information and knowledge, truth that cannot be manipulated."

"What does that mean, sir? Through schooling, I know the muggles send light between computers to transfer information and such. Fiber optics and whatnot."

"Though impressive and useful, it is quite trivial and simplistic Harry," Dumbledore made a gesture of dismissal and then became quite passionate as he began his lecture.

"While Russell was a muggle, one that I had met in America while on a mission, his theory goes beyond such naïve usage. It is something that, should one choose to accept it, would push the boundaries of what we know about magic and science. Russell had no knowledge of magic but I posited the existence of such a force and we began our thought experiment."

Harry leaned forward in his seat, expecting that Dumbledore was about to reveal some groundbreaking piece of knowledge. Throughout the past few weeks, he had learned much from the old wizard and he knew he would never view magic the same way that he did when he was at Hogwarts.

"What happened then," Harry asked with restrained excitement.

"Unbeknownst to Russell, I used real magical principles in our discussion. It led to a fierce debate on why such a powerful force would have laws that must be followed, but in the end we made quite a discovery."

To emphasize his point, Dumbledore reached into a robe pocket and placed a gleaming silver lighter onto their table. It was quite ordinary besides its highly polished appearance. In the past, he would have lost his excitement at the sight such an ordinary object, but Dumbledore taught him that not all things were as they appeared.

"This Harry, is a Deluminator, my most prized possession. It is the culmination of a lifetime of learning and perhaps, my greatest achievement."

"What does it do, Professor?"

"It allows the user to extinguish the light in a place by storing it in the lighter. After it has served its purpose, the light can be restored to its original location."

Dumbledore nodded at the lighter and Harry took the magical device in his hands. It was cool to the touch and was very light. Testing the nature of the device, he flicked open the top, pressed down on the striker wheel and lit a flame. To his surprise, it functioned as a regular lighter as well.

"As you have noticed, it does serve the purpose that you would expect it to. However, knowing what I have told you about Russell's theory and having been taught to broaden your perception, what can you discern is different about the Deluminator?"

Harry turned the Deluminator every which way, viewing it from all angles, searching for a hidden physical clue. There were no imperfections as far as he could tell and then the idea flashed into his head. Struck by the thought, he flicked the flint and an orange flame burst into life. Taking the napkin in one hand, he touched a corner of the napkin to it and watched it burn, ruining his theory. Disappointed at the result, his frowning face met that of Dumbledore's amused gaze.

"I was so sure that the flame was a fake. I thought that maybe, it wasn't real."

Dumbledore flicked his wand, sending a stream water from it which drenched the now ruined napkin. Satisfied that their tent wasn't going to burn down, he turned his attention to Harry.

"Very good, Harry. At the very least, you have verified that it is indeed a true flame, not one embellished by illusion," the rather wise wizard continued to speak but Harry paid him no heed, his eye was drawn to the flame from the lighter.

The fire was flickering, hues of blue at the very bottom and bright orange at the very top. It drew him in, dancing as if the flame was alive. He stretched out with his senses, with wonder and curiosity, knowing that there was more to this object. Then he opened his mind to impossibility and began to _perceive_ it for what it really was and then, his thumb moved on its own volition flicking the flint wheel not down, but up.

Shock spread throughout his limbs as the fire transformed from a bright orange to a cool blue. He let out his breath which he did not know he was holding and it extinguished the flame. He had no idea what no idea what possessed him to reverse the direction of the wheel, but it had worked. Astounded by his success, he looked away from the blue flame to see Dumbledore's proud face. Dumbledore reached for the lighter and Harry handed it to him, the man pocketing it within his robes.

"Professor Dumbledore, I don't understand. How did I know to do that?"

"Magic leaves many traces and whispers many of its secrets. You Harry, have begun to hear such whispers of truth. This is a skill that is beyond Hogwarts curriculum, for it is quite difficult to grasp and the Ministry's in its infinite wisdom, long ago decided that there was no use for such a talent," Dumbledore got up from his seat and began pacing, taken up by his passion.

"I have repeatedly met with the Ministry, lectured them on the use of this magic and the advancement and understanding it could bring but they deemed it was too difficult. Have I ever given you a book from my collection or my own notes on such a topic?"

Indeed, Dumbledore taught him by experience with enchanted objects and during their practical lessons, sent spells close against his skin, teaching him to feel the different magic that whizzed through the air.

"No Professor, I learned from practice and feel."

Dumbledore snapped his fingers in agreement.

"Exactly! And I have tried to teach them of such magic, but with closed minds and without theories and incantations, they could not understand this talent," Dumbledore sighed with disappointment before continuing his diatribe.

"So, despite repeated attempts, I have not had success at implementing this skill into Hogwarts' curriculum. Yet today I feel quite successful, for you have learned to harness this talent and in doing so, you have passed your second test today."

"Then we can onto the next stage of Occlumency?"

"Precisely, I do believe it is time we start the next process in your education. But first, we must clear this table. A mess that is left alone will always remain a mess. I trust that your Scouring Charm will be more refined this time?"

Harry chuckled at Dumbledore's little quip, amused by the man's oddity.

"Yes sir, I've been working on it during my own time. I won't scrub off the finishing of the plate this time."

"See to it that you don't, Harry. Otherwise, you would gain more experience from the Reparo charm. Now, having become a learned man in the matters of Perception, do as I do and try to emulate the feel for how I'll cast this charm. Wand movements and incantations bind us into rigidity, but magic itself is beyond these limitations and does not require language and angles to work."

With that, the former headmaster waved his wand and Banished everything into the sink, splitting everything into two. Harry prepared himself for the task, taking into heart the advice that Dumbledore repeated so often.

"Scourgify!"

Dumbledore's wand motions were exaggerated yet precise but Harry always ignored this part of the test and focused on his goal. He prepared his mind to understand, to _feel_ and to _perceive_, and this time he ignored the absurdity that he felt and_ listened_ to the magic. There was no light to accompany the spell but now, he could have sworn he felt it leave the man's wand. In previous lessons, he thought he had imagined it but this time he knew it was real. It felt purposeful and clean, yet there seemed to be a hint of lightness to it.

Harry's eyebrows rose up in surprise as he identified the lightness sensation. Dumbledore had cast some sort of levitation spell with the Scouring Charm. This was new to him, yet he raised his wand and mentally prepared himself before casting the spell. Harry was tempted to verbalize the spell in his head, but instead he pressed sensations of cleanliness, lightness, purpose, and _belief_ through the wand, his mind's eye visualizing the desired effect. The dishes on his side of the sink rose, some nearly touching the ceiling but the dishes began cleaning themselves.

"Bravo," Dumbledore exclaimed, happy for Harry's success. Puzzled by Harry's overpowered levitation, Dumbledore addressed the issue with what Harry thought was a joke.

"…though I'm not sure if my dishes would be as clean since it does not have as high of an exposure to the air. Nevertheless, that was a magnificent first attempt and with refinement and practice, you will be quite capable."

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, for everything. Without you, I don't think I would have ever viewed magic this way or been able to do _that_."

Harry gestured towards the sink, his heart pounding with excitement from new capabilities. He was absolutely thrilled and it showed on his face. He felt the corners of his mouth spread into a big grin, happy for the first time in a while. It seemed so long ago when he had lost everything, but now he was truly content, almost unaffected by the past.

"Learning is one of the most amazing gifts in life, teaching an even better gift. Watching a student's eyes open wide with wonder and understanding brings me great joy. It is why I chose this job in the first place and for once, I was not feared."

"Feared, sir?"

"For a time, Harry, I was not the man I am today. I desired power and I used almost any means at my disposal to get it. I traveled far and wide and in many different circles, some involved in highly illicit activities. I was young and youth had made me a fool to its nature."

"What did you do?"

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his crooked nose, unhappy with his past choices.

"Fear, intimidation, thievery were not above me. I made many friends and many enemies but in doing so, I gained knowledge and power, things I was looking for. But it was my actions after I realized the errors of my ways that created such fear."

"Your wand," Harry responded with certainty in his voice.

"Indeed, I had joined the Ministry as an Auror, learning to track, deceive, and infiltrate, turning my wand against many of my former acquaintances in order to redeem myself, though my methods may have been harsh at times. In doing so, my feats were published and chronicled, thus infiltration was no longer effective. I had built an incredible resume, and I would at times find myself in foreign countries on covert Ministry assignments."

"You were a spy," Harry asked with shock, knowing that he must looked awfully stupid with his mouth wide open.

Dumbledore looked terribly smug and demonstrated the broad knowledge held in his rather impressive brain.

"Well, you could say I was James Bond in a time when our office was known as the Secret Service Bureau."

"Wait, you mean like the Secret Intelligence Service? Isn't that a muggle branch?"

"Indeed it was. The SSB was the predecessor for the modern SIS. Following my rise in infamy, I disappeared into the muggle world for a time. With a forged identity and rather minimal use of magic, I joined the service, looking for a different challenge. I used my wizarding clandestine experience at first but soon mastered the muggle way as well. I maintained a few contacts within the Auror department and with the Minister of the time and when needed, took care of the more delicate assignments that required my unique talents. After eroded memories decreased my infamy, I returned to the wizarding world and immediately took the Transfiguration post at Hogwarts. The rest as you know, is a part of history."

"That's amazing, sir. I had no idea you were involved in anything like that. I couldn't imagine it. It's certainly not in any of the books."

"I know of no other wizard who has made this type of migration and my even then, my foray into the muggle world has never filled any books or articles. Very few knew of it at the time and even fewer are alive to speak of such things. But now that I have overburdened you with new knowledge and many tales, it is time for you to not just sense change in your mind but to defend it from attack, to guard your precious memories."

They settled into the clearing outside of their tent. It was well shaded. The canopy above them prevented the sun from shining through. They stood about twenty feet from each other, the normal distance for Dumbledore's dueling lessons.

"Now Harry, the method which I am using to teach you is nothing like what you have read about Occlumency. My books which I have lent to you are, like the other books, are meant only to guide you to a certain understanding. The rest will be up to you."

This was highly surprising. Dumbledore stressed theory and understanding yet now, he was going back on his words. But after learning so much from the man, he couldn't help but trust his words.

"What do you mean, Professor? You mean I won't be clearing my mind, or not let my emotions get to me? Should I shield my mind like how the books describe?"

"No, it is only one process. One avenue for you to reach your desired destination but I believe this method will help you build a much stronger foundation and will be much more flexible, enabling you to defend yourself to a broad varieties of attacks. It is one that will be created from my intellect, our creativity, and your intuition."

"I'm guessing it has something to do with Perception and your method of spell casting?"

"Precisely," he cried, sparks shot from the man's raised wand due to his excitement.

"I trust you've been working on those shielding spells?"

"I have, sir. Would you like a Prostatevon Shield?"

"Hmm…it would be apt for this demonstration. Do you remember what I taught you about the best defense against any attack?"

Harry twirled his wand, brow furrowing in concentration. He recalled the countless hours he spent looking over spells, trying to get a feel for what others might use against him even if he could not remember it all.

"You said the best defense was knowledge, to know and understand what curse or spell was being used by our enemies."

"Well put, and if your information was lacking?"

"Shield against the unknown, hoping our will and conviction are enough to fortify our defense."

"And should your shield fail to protect you…"

Harry could not help himself and laughed at the thought of Dumbledore's last piece of advice. It was so simplistic, yet it was effective.

"Get out of the way."

"Very good Harry. I see I have taught you well."

Dumbledore chuckled with his student, the pair acting as if they had no concern for the massive amount of Ministry resources that was most certainly directed toward finding the two fugitives. It was strange as the thought occurred to him, Dumbledore never mentioned if they could be found here in their sanctuary or when they were leaving. But he didn't have time as he noted with alarm that Dumbledore had pointed his wand against him.

"And now, I will demonstrate to you how I will break your trusted Prostatevon Shield with nothing more than a tickling charm. Do not attempt to counter it other than casting a shield. On three, Harry."

"One."

Harry prepared himself, unsure if Dumbledore was being serious. Dumbledore himself had said that he should use this shield as a last result since it could block a greater variety of magic than the standard Protego. It was possible that Dumbledore could use another spell, hoping to catch him by surprise. Perhaps it was to instill doubt in his mind, thus reducing his defenses.

"Two."

"_Prostatevo,_" he incanted, a calm blue shield shimmered into existence.

"Three, _Rictusempra_," the bearded wizard intoned and the spell rushed from the outstretched wand with blinding speed.

Harry was tempted to mentally verbalize the counter in his head, thus fortifying the shield with knowledge like Dumbledore had taught him which would reduce or in this case, completely nullify the spell. The charm flew so quickly that he barely had time to _Perceive_ it but when he did, it almost made him drop his wand in shock. He felt the currents of laughter in the charm but underneath, it was simply wrong, feeling as if it was an abomination against him. Sure enough, he was right as the Prostatevon Shield burst into a thousand pieces of sparkly golden motes and laughter escaped his mouth.

"_Finite," _Dumbledore intoned, silencing the laughter that echoed through the clearing. Harry was in shock, once again impressed by Dumbledore's abilities.

"Professor, what was that?"

"That, Harry, is how you will counter my Legilimency and any attacks on your mind. Tell me, how did it feel?"

Had Harry not learned about _Perception_, he would have thought Dumbledore was asking how it felt to be bested by the most powerful wizard in the world.

"It felt, _wrong_ as if it was everything that I was not. It felt personal, eager to attack _me_."  
Dumbledore placed his wand in his belt, and then clapped his hands together, beginning his lesson.

"That is exactly what I intended. Beneath its purpose, I imbued what seemed to be the opposite of your magic, your _essence_, everything which made you, you. In doing so, I was able to penetrate you shield and if the flow were…"

The former headmaster did not get a chance to finish as Harry blurted out the rest of what Dumbledore was trying to say.

"Reversed, one could use it to block as well, for something like Occulumency!"

Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled, mirroring his pupil's exciting discovery. A gentle breeze entered the clearing, making seem as this place also approved of this discovery.

"Well done, and now I want you to place your wand on the ground. Upon resisting my intrusion, you will follow with a Disarming Charm, attempting to break my hastily forming _Protego_. This will be your exam, Mr. Potter."

Dumbledore appeared stern but Harry knew the man was all about appearances. It was his way of having fun.

"Alright Professor, I'm ready when you are."

"Then we now duel not with our wands but with our minds, _Legilimens!"_


	5. Chapter 5: Gods and Demons

Incorruptible

Chapter 5

Gods and Demons

Harry felt Dumbledore entering his mind, the sensation strengthened by his new ability and Dumbledore's wanded intrusion. The memories rushed to the surface and he saw it all.

They were at the zoo for the first time in Harry's life and he was somewhat happy, because the snake cared to talk to him. And then he was elated when the glass vanished, sending Dudley into the exhibit with the snakes. But Vernon turned purple with anger when they got into the car, sending a jolt of fear into the pit of his stomach.

Dumbledore chased the fear into another memory, and suddenly Harry was facing a rather large and garishly dressed woman who he was drinking tea with. For a moment he was afraid that he went too far and she had discovered his plans, but he squashed those feelings and watched the house elf carry away bejeweled golden cup and his birthright, a golden locket with emeralds forming a curvy S shape…

For a moment, Dumbledore's attack faltered and then he located the wizard through his memories and emotions and sought to understand and _perceive _the man's essence but Dumbledore was too crafty and used the memories to protect himself.

The pressure started once more and Dumbledore wove a cloak of memories around his presence, selecting and discarding memories with swiftness, preventing Harry from countering the attack. So, Harry willed himself to _Perceive_, struggling against the whirlwind of emotions and images and past experiences. The colors and sights and sounds were almost too much, but then he located Dumbledore and _felt_ and understood what the next target was.

Dumbledore intended to view Harry's experience in the chamber of secrets but Harry arrived at the memory first and without knowing what he was doing, fabricated the memory, adding what he thought was the antithesis of Dumbledore's soul. The former headmaster arrived at the memory a mere moment later and Harry began his counter.

It was damp, cold, and dark in the chamber of secrets. The almost corporal body of Tom Riddle stood above Ginny Weasley's listless body, waiting for his return to the world.

"…There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half bloods, orphans, raised by muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike…"

Harry looked up at Tom Riddle, speaking his next words very quietly.

"Did they come to you? The snakes, that is. I can make them hurt people, you know."

Riddle dropped the raised wand, now interested by Harry's story.

"Did you ever think that you were perhaps, more than just a wizard, Harry Potter? That you were special beyond all the other ones?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond and Dumbledore _pressed _himself further into the memory, verifying its truthfulness.

The moment Dumbledore _pressed_ his mind into the memory, looking for truth, Harry fine tuned the fabricated experience to make it feel more opposite of Dumbledore's essence and then collapsed the memory on Dumbledore's mind. Then with a great deal of hope and will, he _pushed_ Dumbledore out of his mind, similar to the Scouring Charm he casted some time ago while reversing the flow of Dumbledore's magic and soul.

Abruptly, he found himself on his back and winced as the light piercing through the canopy almost blinded his vision. Quickly shaking off his disorientation, both physical and mental, he leapt to his feet and snatched his wand off the ground.

Dumbledore was already waving his wand and began to intone, a blue shield could almost be seen forming.

"Prote…" the former headmaster formed his magic and was in the process of protecting himself but Harry was ready.

"Expelliarmus," he cried, and the spell rocketed from his wand with purpose, strength, and the antithesis of Dumbledore's magic.

The spell struck with great force and caused many cracks to form along the shield, giving it a rather broken look. But despite it all, the shield held strong and looked as if it would take quite a few more spells to penetrate it. The clearing was now silent save for Harry's panting breaths. Until now, he had no idea how tired he was, having exerted himself both physically and mentally.

"Bravo, Harry. That was quite marvelous. Though I must ask, how did you know to fabricate your memory?"

With a sweep of his wand, he summoned a large rock to his feet and sat on it before answering Dumbledore's question. Instead of imitating Harry, the old wizard Transfigured a chair out of nothing but the air and sat upon it.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. It just seemed right at the time," he grinned sheepishly at the headmaster.

"Well, I must say it was a quite a fine bit of magical ability that you have displayed today, Harry. I do believe that was a pass and if I were to grade it, it would be nothing less than an _Outstanding_."

The former headmaster looked pensive for a moment, twisting his beard between his fingers. Then he waved his wand and branches of all sizes zoomed through the air, hard ones forming the frame while the springy, flexible twigs twisted around the frame, adding thickness and volume to the table. With one swift wave of his wand, Dumbledore had Summoned and Transfigured the raw wood into a table which looked quite stately. Plates, food, and utensils from the tent landed softly in front of them, causing Harry's stomach to growl with hunger.

"I trust you are quite hungry?"

"Absolutely famished, sir. I didn't realize how hungry I was until now."

He took a swig of the glass of water which came from the springs around him, drinking like a man who had been stuck in the desert. Harry did not think water could be ambrosia, but considering what Dumbledore thought this place was, it could have very well been the drink of the gods, or God in this case.

"Then you shall eat and I will tell you of the tale of the wizard who feared death so much that he pushed the boundaries of magic far beyond another other wizard. Do remind me to show you the memories later for they hold great significance."

"Memories, sir," asked Harry, food falling out of his mouth due to his gluttonous behavior. He hastily wiped his mouth with a napkin, hoping not to offend his mentor.

"Oh my, one should finish chewing all their food before responding, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore gave him a look of reproach. As serious as Dumbledore looked, Harry knew it was the man's way of having a bit of fun.

"But yes, in my collection of knowledge, almost none are as important as the memories pertaining to Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tell me, if the Killing Curse targeted one's soul, what could you do protect it?"

Despite scolding Harry for talking with his mouth full, Dumbledore asked this question right as he started stuffing his mouth again. The old man chose to sip at his drink and nibble a bit of his food while waiting for Harry to respond.

"Well if you can't shield against it then maybe you could…" he trailed off as images of his third year came to his mind, the Dementors with their horrid nature…

"Professor Dumbledore, if a Dementor were to suck out someone's soul, what would happen to it?"

Dumbledore clasped his hands together, forming a tent with them.

"No one truly knows the answer to that question. But there has never been a recorded case of a Dementor kissed person leaving behind a part of themselves as a ghost or otherwise. However, if their body should survive the process and had no previous damage, it would simply exist as a shell, existing yet not truly living."

Harry thought long and hard, feeling as if the answer was within his grasp.

"If the person's body can live without the soul," he trailed off as the answer came to him. During their run in with the Dementors, he could have sworn he saw Sirius' soul begin to leave his body.

"Maybe one can leave a part of it in the body, so that they wouldn't be a mindless husk. And the other part, they can leave somewhere else so that the Killing Curse can't touch it! Only problem…would it, the part that's been cursed, would it survive?"

Harry felt as if it was a stupid question, having realized the answer to the question as soon as he asked it.

"A Horcrux," Harry began, swallowing his excitement.

"It's something that Voldemort has done isn't it? He's placed his soul into something else for safe keeping. Like the," Harry trailed off with his response, thinking of the whole Chamber of Secrets incident, how a memory almost gained form…

"Diary, which is precisely what he did," Dumbledore appeared quite grave, magnifying the wrinkles on his face, making him look much older and much more intense.

"As you have surmised, a Horcrux is an object in which a wizard has chosen to conceal a part of their soul, anchoring it into the mortal world, guaranteeing that if their body should come to harm, they would not pass onto the beyond."

"How does one make a Horcrux, Professor Dumbledore? Why doesn't every wizard have one if it allows them to defeat death, to end a pointless life spent in existence only to head into nonexistence at the end?"

The words rose unwittingly from deep inside of him, making him feel more passionate as he spoke about beating death. It was strange Harry thought, he had never thought about this before nor did he have strong ideas about the subject.

"I mean, what's the point if we don't live to see our accomplishments and darkness will surround us for eternity, never to be aware again? Why shouldn't every wizard and witch strive to make a Horcrux, ensuring that death will never claim them and none will ever have to suffer the loss of a loved one?"

Alarmed by every word that Harry spoke, Dumbledore placed his wand on the table, ready to use it if necessary. He fixed Harry with such a piercing stare that it made him feel as if he were a bug under a microscope.

"Are you sure you mind is secure, Mr. Potter? Though it was only recently that I have gotten to understand the man beneath the lightning bolt scar, I've never known you to fear death or seek immortality."

The statement startled Harry, unsure of where these ideas came from. He assessed his mind and found that his defense had not been penetrated.

"Absolutely, Professor. I'm sorry, I don't know where that outburst came from."

Dumbledore held him under the scrutinizing gaze for a moment longer and then relaxed yet his wand remained between them, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

"Sometimes I wonder just how much the mark of his memories has left on your mind and why this place deemed it was necessary for you to heal with those memories intact. It is my hope that it is a blessing in disguise but that I feel is not for discussion at this time and I fear I have digressed. The reason why many wizards do not attempt such magic is because it is a violation of nature itself. A Horcrux requires a damaged soul, one torn by the act of cold, premeditated murder. The ritual to remove that portion of the soul is so vile that I hesitate to let you read it."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but abruptly stopped as flashes of images, far too quick to process, rocketed through his mind. It was incomprehensible but for one moment, he felt the food threaten to leave his stomach. Thankfully he squashed the feeling down and managed not to hurl all over his food.

"Harry, are you alright? What did you see?"

Dumbledore closed the gap between them and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. Harry washed down the bile with a glass of water before answering.

"I'm fine, Professor. Thank you. It was too fast for me to make out but I felt something, something revolting and _wrong_."

What was strangest was that he felt his pants become tighter as arousal rushed into his mind, though he would not tell Dumbledore that part. Harry waved off Dumbledore's concern and the man returned to his seat, worry remained on his face but he deemed it was safe to continue.

"It is my belief that you were able to _perceive_ what it meant to have torn your soul and to turn it into a Horcrux, which by your reaction, confirms my theory. Now do you see why no sane person would attempt such an act of vile mutilation?"

"Yeah, I think I understand now. I think I know why you said it was unnatural."

"You see, Harry, many scholars think that the act of tearing your soul bars you from the afterlife, only allowing one to exist in a lesser form in purgatory. Furthermore, I suspect one would be unable to find Truth, to _Perceive_ and know the nature and secrets of things. While one would gain a temporary escape from death, they would be faced with a never ending lack understanding of the universe, magic, and above all, themselves."

Harry caught the word temporary and his mind went on overdrive, thoughts racing through his head.

"Professor Dumbledore, did you say temporary?"

"As you have discovered yourself, a Horcrux is not invulnerable to damage. Though in Voldemort's case, I fear the protections surrounding his other ones will be quite formidable."

Harry's mind froze, realizing that he had only destroyed one Horcrux. He bit his lip, wondering just how many Horcruxes Voldemort created.

"Sir, you said there were others? What would that do to a person, to make more than one?"

"Besides an amplification of the limitations which we talked about, you've seen what Tom Riddle has become. One cannot see any remains of the handsome man that left Hogwarts, thankfully gifted by his father's good looks. What is left is a monster, both literally and figuratively. But Voldemort stands in uncharted waters, he…"

"Have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality," he echoed what Voldemort told him in the cemetery, understand what the terrible wizard meant.

"But, Professor, he's the only one who has done this before, isn't he? He's the only wizard, ever, to have created more than one."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement to Harry's train of thought, his eyes lightened and he looked less grim for a brief moment but it was gone as he discussed his theory.

"Many wizards fear splitting their soul more than once, thinking it would make them too unstable, but…"

Harry chose to interrupt Dumbledore in the middle of his answer.

"How do you mean by unstable, sir?"

Dumbledore retreated in his head for a moment, thinking about his numerous theories but even his immense knowledge provided no help here.

"There is no way to know for certain when using such unnatural magic. Some wizards have died and left themselves as a ghost and unlike benign ghosts such as the ones at Hogwarts, these are permanently bound to the earth, forced to never have peace. It is their hell, their punishment. Others have Apparated, stating that they plan to arrive at a certain destination, only to have never existed again. Where they have vanished to, no one knows."

"Is it like the Vanishing Spell then? Where the Vanished item goes into nonbeing, which is everything."

"It is a likely theory, one which some scholars have agreed with. To mutilate yourself in such a fashion, one risks the stability of their existence. Very good, Harry," Dumbledore approved once more but did not have a look of surprise on his face since he expected his student to have worked very hard under his tutelage.

"Seven," Harry breathed out with shock, the answer suddenly leaping to the forefront of his mind, sure of its exactness.

Excited by the discovery, he almost could not hear through the blood rushing through his ears. The waterfall, no waterrise, normally loud and relaxing, almost could not be heard through his reduced sense of hearing. Dumbledore looked at him with wonder, muttering under his breath for a moment.

"The stable yet unstable…perhaps wholly joined, and this is why…surely it could be an advantage. Slughorn must be consulted. Forgive me, Harry, it is only the mutterings of an old man thinking aloud. Numerology? I had no idea you that you've broaden your knowledge to such things."

Unnaturally attracted to the book perched in the most inconspicuous spot on the common room bookshelf, he took it and perused it during his free time. It was a book that contained writings from ancient wizards, from a time when science, magic, and religion were one and for that reason, even muggles were included. He pictured one particular muggle of interest and recited the line that was branded into his head.

"Number is the ruler of forms and ideas and the cause of gods and demons."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked so proud that Harry could not help but feel very pleased with his studies. The man had woken something wonderful inside of him and now, looking at the weathered yet satisfied face, he knew he could not let Dumbledore down. To do so would be to insult the man and his teachings.

"Precisely, Harry. You've made great strides in the last month and I if were headmaster still, I would have no other option but to award points to Gryffindor. That aside, it is likely that Voldemort stumbled upon this book during his readings as you yourself have and in doing so, has perverted the ideas of Pythagoras in order to turn himself into a god. But in destroying himself in this abominable way, he has presented us with his greatest weakness. Do you see what it is?"

Once again, his readings provided him with the answer. He grinned for a moment, wondering if this was what went through Hermione's mind. But as the thought of her crossed his mind, he realized how much he missed his friends and wondered what they were going through. Living with Dumbledore was great but he yearned to be back in England, to see other people. Realizing that Dumbledore was staring at him with learned patience, he hastily replied with the answer.

"He's gained stability by making seven but at the same time he's destroyed his senses. They are warped and in separating his soul into seven states," Harry's response stalled, unsure of where he was going with his train of thought.

Dumbledore spoke and as always, filled the gap in his knowledge.

"Voldemort has created seven states of matter and has annihilated the unity of soul thus preventing him from being able to _Perceive."_

"But Voldemort is still very powerful. He has decades of magic on me and he is more driven," Harry said with frustration, his fists clenched.

"Don't you see, Harry," Dumbledore began, his eyes flashing with emotion.

"You haven't limited yourself to power, knowledge and truth and in doing so you have become quite adaptable, able to survive against very harsh odds. Voldemort on the other hand will have not an inkling of what to expect from you and with this ability to adjust, to work with instinct and feel, he will meet an opponent who will always defy him, never bowing to his whims, and one day," Dumbledore paused for a moment, looking so determined and convinced that when he spoke once more, Harry did not think that Dumbledore could be wrong.

"One day, you shall best him for he has already lost his war against death. It is coming and it will be you, a Master of his death."

"Sir," Harry swallowed the lump that rose in his throat, caused by Dumbledore's conviction in himself. A number of emotions went through him, too quickly to identify. "Whatever happens, I won't let you down."

"So long as you don't let yourself down, I feel that my belief is well placed," Dumbledore gave him a wink of reassurance and then clapped his hands together. "Now that we are well fed and full of knowledge, let us retreat to the tent where I will show you the memories of our enemy, then we shall have one last drill and at nightfall, we will make our way back to England."

Once again, Dumbledore filled his head with new knowledge, ensuring that he would be well equipped to face Voldemort. The Prophecy was revealed to him, making him feel disappointed by the result. There was no weapon other than the knowledge of the prophecy itself, though he was starting to understand just how powerful knowledge can be. They had another discussion during their drill, speculating about what items Voldemort may have turned into Horcruxes and the people who contained the knowledge to positively identify those Horcruxes. The talk of making headway into Voldemort's defeat excited him. So much so, that when he was supposed to shield against Dumbledore's unknown spell, he faltered and it left a lasting mark on his left shoulder.

Even now the effects were just beginning to reverse, his shoulder grinding and clicking with every movement like that of a much, much older person. Before long, they had one last dinner and then disbanded their tent, removing any trace of their existence. So they stood in the clearing and Harry looked to Dumbledore for instruction, his palms sweating from anxiousness.

"How do we leave from here, Professor?"

"We arrived here by air through which we found ourselves in the medium of water. How then, would you expect us to leave, Harry," asked Dumbledore, testing Harry's understanding of magic.

"We leave through water then and arrive in the air?" A month ago it would have been absurd to suggest such a thing but Harry knew otherwise now.

"Exactly, we will need to slow ourselves down once we cross back over. If you should panic, do not hesitate to use incantations instead. But try to feel it, Harry and counter it. Now, we make our way to the water."

Dumbledore had made it sound as if the water was a quite a distance away but in reality, they walked only thirty paces before they reached their destination. Harry peered around him, taking in the sights of the foliage and numerous plants and the sounds of the trees which seemed almost alive. It would be sad to leave here but he was ready for world again, eager to face its trials.

"What would you propose we do now, Harry," asked the old wizard, placing the tip of his shoe into the water.

"We swim to the very bottom, Professor. There we will find ourselves at the highest part of the sky," replied Harry, convicted in his answer.

"Very good. In that case, I propose that you should venture ahead of me and I will watch your back."

"My back? Will we be attacked, Professor," Harry asked with alarm.

"It is unlikely unless Severus has defected and has sold us out to Voldemort which I find unlikely. That said, it would be unlikely for them to find our location but it is always better to be prepared. After you, Harry."

Dumbledore made a motion with his hand and Harry complied, diving into the water. Despite the cooling temperature and setting sun, the water was comfortable and refreshing like that of swim on a spring morning. He swam deeper and deeper, taking care not to inhale and soon his lungs were on fire and he knew that he would not have long before he passed out. But he noticed that he could not see in front of him anymore and with one last stroke, the water disappeared around him.

Harry burst into the air, the sudden pressure change making his ears throb with pain. The unexpected acceleration caused by the pull of gravity created a nasty lurch at his navel, almost causing him to vomit midair. Meanwhile, the wind whistled and caused his eyes to streak with tears. To make things worse, the sheer amount of force directed against his body almost made him lose his wand.

Suddenly a flash of images went through his head, too quickly for him to identify except for one scene. He was at the top of the Astronomy tower, the stars twinkling in the night sky above him and for one minute moment, his feet left the ground unaided by a broom. Abruptly, the sensation of familiarity entered him and without knowing what he was doing, waved his hand, sending an unusual combination of magic through the wand. His rapid descent towards the ground slowed to a more manageable pace and then he realized that his throat was sore and that he had been screaming for quite a while. Then Dumbledore sailed next to him, grabbed his arm and twisted in midair, causing blackness to surround them.

Harry could feel his body dematerializing, becoming almost nothingness except for his mind, his perception. And in that sensation was tightness around what used to be his chest and darkness. While the tightness was discomforting, it was nothing compared to the nonexistence that surround him. What frightened him the most was the fact that he could _feel _something slithering through the darkness, alien and unnatural. Then it was over. Life exploded around them as they appeared close to the base of the mountain, overlooking the valley and town on the other side.

"Professor Dumbledore, did you feel it," Harry asked, trying to calm down his racing heart.

"I did feel it," the old man responded, his voice quiet. "I've felt it every time I've Apparated, since the beginning of my lessons during my youth. They thought I was strange, unusual, very unlike them and now, you are like me Harry."

"They couldn't _perceive_ it, couldn't they? They don't understand the truth about Apparation."

"No, Harry they don't understand at all. I've had a theory for quite some time and many scholars feel it is so absurd that to repeat it at my advanced age would lend credence to my senility."

"That every time we Apparate, we travel to the edge of the universe. It's where the Vanished items go, into nonexistence which is everything around our universe," Harry asked, the answer making perfect sense in his head.

"Almost, Harry, you are so very close to the truth though you are correct regarding Vanishing magic. Rather than travel to the edge, we are in fact, beyond that edge and are in the beginnings of the membranous boundary between this universe and the next."

"You said we were in the beginnings, what happens if we cross into it?"

"As far as I know, you can't. Should a wizard from this sided discover a way to cross, I presume that the forms which exist in the membrane would attack, preventing one from making it through."

A thought about what Dumbledore said, crossed his mind. Since they were just standing and looking at the town below them, it couldn't hurt to satisfy his curiosity.

"Professor, earlier you said that those wizards who split their soul, when Apparating would never return. Did they slip through?"

Dumbledore, smiled and turned to his pupil, excited by the young man's change.

"A likely conjecture and one that I hoped you would arrive at. Fear not, Harry we will make you a wizard yet," then Dumbledore started to lecture once again. "I surmise that the lack of unity of their soul prevents them from being bound as tightly to this universe. Make no mistake, they are bound to their Horcrux which exists in this universe but the rest of their soul, I cannot say. If this postulate were to hold true, then it must mean that because they are not bound so tightly, it is quite possible they managed to pierce through the barrier and ended defeated by the things in the in between. The only exception to this rule is Voldemort who gains an advantage by making six atrocities, one staying within himself."

"Sir, is it possible that Voldemort can cross through," the thought occurred to him but something seemed wrong about it.

"No, it is unlikely. In creating seven fragments, Voldemort has created a contradiction in that he gains greater freedom, able to travel closer into the edge yet at the same time, is more bound than his predecessors who have attempted this magic. Additionally, I believe that the use of your blood provides him with an even greater protection from instability, so that when we do destroy his Horcruxes, he will not face the same fate of those who have erred as well."

"Professor, what do you think those forms are," Harry asked hesitantly.

Dumbledore turned to him and spoke before raising his arm.

"The good and evil that can be found in men's hearts. They guard against men's aspiration to discover truth."

When Dumbledore finished speaking, he made a motion with his fingers and abruptly, a ball of flame exploded in front of them, causing Harry to stumble back with surprise. Fawkes returned to them, an unopened envelope clutched in his beak. Dumbledore took the piece of correspondence, glanced at it briefly before it burst into flame and a look of cold determination entered the man's face.

"We must return to England immediately. Despite the precautions, Voldemort has made his first move against the Order of the Phoenix. He has taken Nymphadora Tonks."

Without warning, Dumbledore seized his arm and Fawkes' talons. Fire surrounded them and when it cleared, there was no trace that they were ever in Switzerland.


	6. Chapter 6: 10 Downing

Thanks everyone for your reviews, both on DLP and here on . I pay close attention and appreciate the support. Gasp, another update? If only I could do that everyday. No telling when the next chapter will be out. Most likely in the next two weeks at most. Enjoy the 4th.

Incorruptible

Chapter 6

10 Downing

With a burst of fire, they arrived in a cramped bathroom which contained no windows. Another burst and Fawkes was gone, leaving for another destination. Harry eyes sought out the signs and debris that were scattered around them, hoping to discern their location. A rumbling traveled through his shoes and vibrated his feet. Suddenly, he realized where they were.

"We're in the London Underground," Harry exclaimed.

Ignoring Harry's outburst Dumbledore walked to a rubbish bin which had fallen and placed his leg upon it while pulling up his robes. On his right knee appeared to be gnarled scar that spoke of adventure from the man's more adventurous days. Harry could not tell what it was, but Dumbledore answered as if he heard the unspoken question.

"It is a scar from an earlier time, allowing me to navigate through the Underground with ease should I apply a simple Point-Me spell to it," Dumbledore tapped his wand onto the scar and then pulled down his robe and made his way to the door.

"Do try to look inconspicuous, Harry. I will Transfigure our outfits into appropriate clothing to aid in our concealment but the moment we step through this door, we will face the might of the Ministry and Lord Voldemort. Neither will be very forgiving. Are you prepared?"

Harry nodded in affirmation and exited the bathroom which he learned was contained in an auxiliary tunnel, hidden by Dumbledore should he or the Order need to fight against a puppet Ministry of Magic. It was genius really, to use muggle transportation in order to avoid magical detection. They eventually arrived to the main part of the rail network and blended in with the rest of the crowd bustling through the station.

"It is wondrous is it not? Limited by their lack of ability to manipulate the universe, they turn to ingenuity and do it quite well," Dumbledore glanced at the train, the phones, and other similar devices that could be seen throughout the Underground.

"Professor, should we be speaking so candidly about things like that?"

The tall wizard raised his eyebrows in amusement, increased his pace and made a beeline toward what looked to be a series of lockers.

"Nonsense Harry, use the senses which you have been given! Look at them, walking about and thinking only of themselves, their ears attached to their phones or eyes to their watches, meanwhile others are thinking of the next train and when it will arrive. They are too involved in their own plight to open their attention to something as amazing and absurd as magic."

Dumbledore was, as usual, absolutely right. For a moment, he pressed his magic and enhanced his awareness, being able to hear many snippets of conversations from the passersby.

"Milk-honey don't you think we should…"

"Of course I do. You know…where I am…same can't…"

"Call…plumber…what is that man thinking…."

It was all mundane and no one had even picked up on the fact that they had just spoke of magic, including those who had been walking next to them, well within normal hearing distance. Then just as he was going to reign in his magic and decrease his awareness, his ears picked up on a phrase that almost caused him to stop in his tracks.

"The fugitives? No they won't bomb the Underground, Melissa. Nothing is going to happen to me. Damn news has us in a state of panic since a month ago and besides a few small incidences, they haven't made any major moves."

Harry wasn't sure if Dumbledore had heard of the conversation but if he had, the man made no indication. They reached the locker, causing Dumbledore to procure a small silver key from his pocket. While the old wizard rummaged inside for whatever he was looking for, Harry took a moment to peer around the station, taking note of the exits. Then his eyes widened as he realized all the exits were blocked by muggle constables, each seemingly checking the passengers for identification.

"Sir," Harry lowered his voice just in case someone decided to pay attention. "There are guards at all the exits. Will we use magic to make our way out?"

Dumbledore fiddled with something in the locker, preventing Harry from seeing what he was doing. Then he handed Harry a plastic identification card which contained no picture. The moment Harry's fingers brushed against the plastic, a still photograph of himself, though _fuzzy,_ formed onto the card.

"Not quite, Harry. I do not wish for our presence in the country to be known just yet. While I am confident that I would be able to mask my usage of magic in such a muggle area, I have not taught you the same ability and I believe the detectors have been redirected towards muggle areas in particular."

"But sir, I've removed the Trace!"

Dumbledore gave him a stern look while grasping Harry by the arm, directing him towards some path.

"Even so, you've not yet managed to cast subtly and it is an area which we've not had time to venture into. Until I inform you otherwise, do not use your wand for any reason, barring an emergency of course. These cards shall allow us to waltz through without detection and these necklaces will render our facial features much less noticeable."

Dumbledore handed him a thin silver necklace humming with power that Harry could feel in his palms. It felt like deception, yet average at times, so normal that he might have even doubted it contained any magic at all. Placing it around his neck, Dumbledore gave him one last warning before moving towards the exit.

"Whatever you do, you must not meet the guard's eyes. Should they be wizard in disguise, they will encounter your Occlumency. Should they be muggle, even those without any magic can discern truth in a man's soul. Take caution and look near yet never meeting their gaze. Is that understood?"

Taken aback by the man's seriousness, he could only nod and give his word. Then they walked to the burly guards who were in the process of verifying people's identity. They entered the queue and after what seemed like an eternity to Harry, it was his turn to proceed.

"Identification," the Constable ordered, looking bored with his job.

Harry handed him the enchanted piece of plastic, wondering how the guard would perceive it. The tall, burly man looked at it intently, flipped it over to the backside and then looked straight at Harry. For a moment, his heart ceased to beat because he was sure he had been caught but then the man returned the identification card back to Harry.

"Thank you, sir. I hope you have a wonderful day."

The man's response seemed unusual since he had never seen a Constable act so nicely but he simply ignored it and thanked his good fortune. Turning around, Dumbledore had likewise passed the inspection and they left for the above ground world.

They walked through the streets of London, weaving through alleyways and at times, walked in plain sight on major thoroughfare. Dumbledore was right. They were truly blind to what was around them for the most dangerous criminals they had ever faced were walking right amongst them. As they crossed by a modern electronics store, a public service announcement was being displayed, a still photograph of himself and Dumbledore was shown to the viewers, a tagline stating that they were wanted for murder of a government official. A hotline straight to the Metropolitan Police Department was posted as well.

"Did you know Harry, that if one were to call that number, Aurors disguised as muggle policemen would be dispatched?"

"I didn't know that, sir. When Sirius escaped from Azkaban, his face was all over the news. But I never wondered what would happen if that number was called."

The mention of Sirius caused a pang of sadness in his heart, but after their journey out of the country, he had accepted the man's death. Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze of support before continuing with his trivia.

"A member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in disguise of course, would direct the Aurors to any scene in which a wizard was suspected to have been involved in. It was actually I who had conceived of the idea of the Ministry spying on its muggle counterparts in case of a magical emergency. The plan was implemented during Voldemort's first rise to power and it gave us the rapid response needed to help save the muggles. Besides, they had no other method of contacting us. Their innovation is quite incredible and with the use of telephones, allowed us to move against the Death Eaters with a moment's notice."

Harry thought to the awful inconvenience of kneeling and talking through the Floo and wondered why Dumbledore didn't give it any praise.

"Professor, I see your point with the telephone but what about the Floo? Isn't that instantaneous as well?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows giving him a look as if he had expected him to have thought of it first.

"Indeed it is instantaneous but like muggle phone lines, the Floo can be disconnected. In fact, the Death Eaters usually disconnect the Floo previous to their attack and ward the area to prevent escape. Sometimes, they leave the Floo connected and when requesting for assistance from the Ministry, they are faced with a Death Eater on the other end of the Floo thus negating any chance of escape or help arriving."

They turned the corner, disappearing into an alleyway once more, ensuring that they would discover if someone had been following them. They only had a few more blocks to go. Suddenly the thought occurred to him. Maybe it was the reason why.

"You said that the Death Eaters were caught by the Ministry wizards who monitoring the phone lines. Why didn't they block it somehow? With some charm or something like that?"

Dumbledore shook his head in sadness and then spoke.

"Blinded by their hatred, they believed the muggles possessed no means to save themselves. With this arrogance, they did not need to understand how Aurors arrived so quickly."

Just as they were about to turn into a dirty, grungy alleyway, Dumbledore stopped abruptly and threw out his arm, preventing Harry from advancing any further. The old wizard turned and looked at a store across the street where two men were pointing objects which glinted as they waved it at the clerk. His eyes became hard as steel and he took a step forward, causing an unaware pedestrian to dodge and curse. Dumbledore turned to Harry, steely determination marked his weathered face.

"Shall we take a brief detour, Harry?"

"Professor Dumbledore, what about the secrecy you talked about earlier? What about finding Tonks," Harry asked, confused by the man's sudden lack of interest in stealth.

"Tonk's flat is only a few streets away from our current location. We will take a quick break to examine this mystery. As for secrecy, I daresay we will find secrecy abound in that very store. Look at it, Harry. Not a single person has peered into it despite the drama and danger that is unfolding."

Harry's head whipped around and just like Dumbledore said, not a single person notice anything out of the ordinary at all.

"Sir, what do you want me to do?"

"Allow me to converse with the thieves. You are to take no action unless you perceive your life is in certain danger. Your most important task is to guard my back and ensure that we do not face any further surprises. Keep an eye on the street and tell me if you should see anything out of the ordinary."

Harry craned his neck and met his mentor in the eyes and tried to look as confident as he could and nodded in affirmation. With that, the two crossed the street as soon as there was a break in the traffic and entered the store.

Wooden shelves surrounded the store from front to back while tables and smaller versions of the shelves filled everything in between. In the shelves were books, with massive signs hanging from the ceiling to denote the genre. From what Harry could see, it was an ordinary, plain, muggle bookstore. But what was out of the ordinary were the two men demanding money from the clerk, a red haired, pimply teenager with the smallest ears. Adding to the unusualness were to two thieves whose appearance made it appear as if a practical joke had been played on Harry and Dumbledore. The armed man was a thin, almost skeletal man with gaunt, sunken features. His accomplice was an awfully short man who appeared to be made of nothing but lard for there was no reason to expect otherwise. Dumbledore stepped forward and motioned for Harry to watch the street. He complied, standing in a position which would allow him to view the drama yet allow him to follow orders.

"Now gentlemen, such violence is unnecessary. Could you find no other means to resolve your disputes?"

The armed criminals jumped in surprise and immediately, Dumbledore found himself staring down at two gleaming pieces of metal.

"Say old man," the short fat man spoke, identifying that he was the leader. "You a ghost or something? Didn't hear you creep in. Better hand me your goods or I'll make you into a ghost, you understand? You too, kid."

"You don't even know what a ghost really is," the irate response shot out of his mouth without thinking and in doing so, earned Dumbledore's rebuke.

"Harry, do not deviate from the plan."

This time, the thin man took a step forward and brandished his gun at the old wizard.

"There isn't any plan but from this man here," the man pointed a sharp, long finger at his boss.

"Yeah, so you better do as we say and hand over that pretty watch you got in your pocket or someone is going to be hurt."

Dumbledore moved from his position, standing so close to the thieves that the guns were now touching his chest. Then his coldness disappeared, only to be replaced with a look of amusement, one that made him look quite kind.

"I'm afraid, gentlemen, that if you should not let Mr. Willowby," Dumbledore nodded at the clerk, somehow having acquired the teen's name. "-or myself and my student go, you will be the one that will be hurt."

The fat man guffawed and slapped his hand on his thigh. Meanwhile, Harry's eyes darted outside where it appeared no one had noticed the happenings inside the store. Instead they appeared to be concerned with the gathering clouds, interested in avoiding the coming downpour.

"Student? You're a teacher of sorts, then. A little old to be teaching aren't you? A bit barmy and senile, I'll wager."

"Hmm…I've been told that I might possess such qualities. Along with those qualities I tend to possess an extraordinary amount of patience but I'm afraid I simply don't have the time for that," with that, Dumbledore whipped out his wand.

Seeing Dumbledore's sudden movement, the thieves wasted no time and pulled the trigger multiple times. There was no hesitation at shooting a man as old as Dumbledore. Harry pulled out his wand with alarm, but breathed a sigh of relief as the guns kept clicking, refusing to fire a single bullet. The three muggles stared in shock and the pimply teen fainted.

"Now gentlemen, I need to know how you came to arrive here, today, at this very store."

The fat man, with wide bulging eyes, looked in fear at the tall wizard and then bolted from his position. It reminded Harry of Dudley, seeing the man's skin bounce and jiggle. The fat man was surprisingly quick and nearly made his way to Harry but Dumbledore's spell was quicker. The man was lifted off his feet and slammed into one of the shelves, eliciting a groan of pain. Dumbledore strolled up to slumped, bleeding man and pointed his wand between the man's eyes.

"I will give you another chance to answer my questions before I have no option but to tear into your mind which I assure you will be very unpleasant."

Dumbledore's threat caused the man to reveal his secrets better than any magic could. The words flowed out of his mouth faster than a leaking dam.

"We'd filched this here knife from this house here in London. And next to this knife was bank statements for this store and that owner had brought in quite the cash, he did. Albus Dumbledore was his name, I believe. Show this old man the knife, Nigel."

Alarmed by the admission, Dumbledore turned to Harry while the tall thief, Nigel, reached for the knife in his pocket.

"Be on the alert. It is as I suspected. I believe we have walked into a trap. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

"No sir, the pedestrians are just walking by," it was the truth yet it was a lie since he had chosen to watch the exchange rather than watch a bunch of muggles go about their business.

"Ready your wand, it is possible we will be attacked at any," Dumbledore was interrupted as Nigel screamed and charged at Dumbledore with a silver dagger.

A simple Protego flared into existence but to their surprise, the muggle brought down the dagger into the shield and the magic collapsed into a thousand pieces of shattered sparks. The fat man was knocked unconscious from the shield but his tall lackey Nigel was unaffected. Like a striking cobra, the Stunner left Harry's wand with blinding speed. The sheer power sent the man crashing into the countertop. Without looking at Harry, Dumbledore cautiously approached the muggle while giving a command.

"Harry, the Ministry will be here soon. You must keep your eyes focused on the outside of the store. Our enemies will not hesitate to strike us when our backs are turned."

"But sir," Harry protested. "You were just attacked and…"

"And it was precisely when our attention was not focused. I will revive Nigel but you must not deviate from the plan. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," he replied while turning once more to look at the pedestrians.

It was a boring task watching muggles of all sorts walking to whatever place they were going to. Some were in business attire while others dressed plainly. A man with thick, rimmed glasses and a worn leather briefcase walked briskly past the store, a mobile glued to his ear. Meanwhile, a blonde woman in a red dress with a garish, yellow umbrella tucked under her arm crossed the street, making her way to the bookstore. She walked with such purpose that Harry was sure she could see into the store, but to his disappointment she turned and then followed the same path as the businessman.

"Legilimens," Dumbledore proclaimed, trying to find secrets hidden in the muggle's mind.

He glanced away from the window and watched as Dumbledore peered into the man's eyes, no, into the man's _soul_. All would be revealed with time. Harry turned from the rather uninteresting sight and went back to observing the pedestrians. People were approaching the fish and chip cart, hoping to snag a quick and easy supper. A balding man with thick glasses and mobile glued to his ear walked quickly past the store. Then, a woman in a red dress with a bright yellow umbrella crossed the street.

Harry stumbled back from the window in shock. No, that couldn't be right he thought. Carefully watching the fish and chip cart, he realized those who had already purchased their food would return back to the end of the line after having somehow disposed of their meal.

"They're all the same," Harry whispered, emerald eyes wide with shock. Right as his scar flared with pain, the muggles all stopped and turned towards the store as a big red tourist bus drove by, obstructing his view of the fish and chip cart.

Once the bus passed through the street, Harry was left with a view that sent chills down his spine. The muggles we all still, seemingly frozen in time, their unblinking eyes directed to the store and he was absolutely certain they could all see him. But what was most unnerving was the tall, handsome, _human_ appearing wizard with glowing red eyes. In his right hand was a tray containing slick, oily fried fish wrapped in newspaper and golden fries. Meanwhile, Voldemort ate with his left hand, savoring the taste of this popular delicacy.

"My favorite meal whenever I managed to pick off the older kids' money from the orphanage," Voldemort spoke calmly while licking the greasy off his pale, yet lively colored fingers.

The voice cut through the noisy area and through the glass like a hot knife through butter. Flashes of images darted through his head, seemingly familiar yet foreign. Voldemort continued to speak as if he had not a care in the world.

"I loved my little forays into London, discovered many things about myself and others. Though you must forgive me, I believe my manners have not served me well today. Would you like to try some Harry?"

Images flashed once more and for a moment, he thought he saw a frail, decrepit beggar curled into a fetal position but it was gone as suddenly as it appeared. Voldemort raised a piece of fried cod and held it out in offering. Harry's stomach grumbled and mouth watered as the smell hit his nostrils. No, this was impossible. He shook his head, opened the door and stepped outside.

"Are you real," Harry asked.

Voldemort's raised hand paused midway with shock and he looked at Harry with bright red eyes.

"No you say? Are you real, Harry Potter? What kind of madman would decline fish and chips, especially one from a vendor who only has minutes left on this earth?"

The wand in his hand and the knowledge in his head served him no comfort as he realized the situation was beyond him. Glancing into the store, Dumbledore was still locked into a gaze with his attacker. Using every bit of willpower, Harry plastered a look of calm on his face and spoke.

"I'm the kind of madman who will make sure that he will live through this."

Voldemort shook his head and looked at the silver watch on his wrist. His robes began shifting, twisting, and appeared to be _melting_.

"While I would love to debate this muggle's fate, I'm afraid that there is nothing you can do for him and I must leave you here with his agonized screams. I must be present at a conference but do send Dumbledore my condolences. Like the fish and chips, she tasted so deliciously sweet," with that, the Dark Lord sent a nasty smirk at Harry and made his point by licking his fingers once more.

Like a figure of imagination, Voldemort suddenly wasn't there anymore. The only piece of evidence that remained was the last piece of half eaten fried cod, the oil soaked newspaper, his now disturbed stomach and somewhat aroused state. Driving the conflicting thoughts and feelings out of his mind, Harry turned on his feet and yanked the door open, rushing to Dumbledore's side. The man was still caught in a trance, his eyes open and gazing into something beyond the physical world.

"Professor, he was here, Voldemort," the words rushing out of his mouth with panic but Dumbledore remained as still as the muggles outside.

Harry placed a hand on the man's shoulder and shook it but the wizard did not respond. Unexpectedly, a loud crash drew his attention as the briefcase and mobile phone wielding man dove headfirst through the window. The shattered glass cut the man in many places, blood running down his face like tears. He screamed and ran at Harry, the arm and phone still raised to his ear. Once again, a brilliant red Stunner left his wand and careened towards its target. The man was flung backwards out of the store and he turned to face Dumbledore while opening his perception.

The threads of magic which connected the men were so vast and numerous that Harry had no idea where to start or how to sort out the individual threads. As such, he could not tell how to neutralize the many and varied effects. Then, the thought of how Dumbledore avoided his eyes earlier in year entered his head. Harry reached out with his hand and hoped that it would be enough. His hand was now placed on the muggle's forehand with then he swept downwards, closing the man's eyelids. A soft gasp escaped Dumbledore's throat and then he collapsed with a thump.

Just as Harry was about to rush to Dumbledore's side, the woman in the red dress dove through the other window and charged at Harry. Again, the stunner left his wand and another muggle was ejected from the store. But another muggle rushed at him, choosing to hurt herself by running straight through the glass door. Another stunner jetted from his wand but already, a muggle had dove through the broken window and landed on the glass. Seeing that muggles outside were instead choosing to run into brick walls and attack each other, he stunned the one that had just made it through and shot an Ennervate at Dumbledore while rushing to the man's side.

"Professor, can you hear me? You need to wake up," Harry roughly shook the man's arm and was forced to turn around as more muggles entered the store.

Three more blazing red stunners left the phoenix feather wand and then it he spun the wand to Dumbledore's face shot out a jet of cold water. The man spluttered and leapt to his feet, appearing disoriented.

"Harry, what has occurred since I entered that man's mind," the man spoke softly, gingerly caressing his head.

"Professor, are you alright," Harry asked while a Stunner left his wand. Alarmed by the onslaught of muggles running towards them, Dumbledore paralyzed a group of them while responding.

"Not quite, I see Voldemort has been gracious enough to prepare for our arrival to England. Follow me, and explain as I attempt to dispel this compulsion," Dumbledore replied but his tone was weak and much less commanding than it was before.

They exited the store and he could not stop the emotion from entering his voice.

"Sir, it's Tonks. I think he's done something terrible to her," his voiced cracked as he thought of vibrant, purple haired Auror.

"And to you as well, I imagine," Dumbledore nodded at something below Harry's waistline and Harry could not stop the shame crept into his tone.

"This isn't me, Professor. I promise you that."

Stunners left his wand while Dumbledore chose to petrify groups of people at a time. A group of muggles was in the process of pushing an upturned car onto another group of prone, injured people when Dumbledore's magic froze them in place.

"Do you take pleasure in it, Harry?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as they stood in the middle of the carnage. Some muggles were rushing at them while others attacked each other and some managed to somehow start fires. He swallowed the bile that rushed to his throat while trying to ignore the conflicting arousal.

"Yes Professor, I do," Harry admitted with guilt. Flashes flittered through his head once more but thankfully he couldn't process it.

"It is as I feared. You are linked closer than I would have imagined but make no mistake, we will remedy this, Harry. We will persevere," Dumbledore's blue eyes met his and the man squeezed his shoulder to provide support.

Then, the man burst into song, singing in a beautiful foreign tone that was not recognizable to him. It was unearthly and somehow reminiscent of Fawkes' own melody. Opening his mind to truth, he was shocked at the utter feeling of confinement that surrounded him. If he had to hazard a guess, they were prevented from leaving this area, sealing them in with the muggles. The bundle of strands that encompassed the area, weaving deception and lies into men's minds suddenly vanished and with that, the muggles all collapsed. Dumbledore cried out in pain and dropped to a knee.

"Professor, what's wrong? What's happening?"

"During my excursion into Nigel's mind I was met with a brilliant trap which has damaged a part of my mind, one that would be exacerbated only when attempting to dispel this type of enchantment," the old wizard replied while breathing heavily.

"He's spelled the area in such a way that is a counter and curse to your magic and your mind, giving you options that would only lead you to harm yourself," Harry responded, the oddity of the magic in the air making sense to him now. It seemed to want to point them in certain preplanned directions and it felt quite personal.

"Precisely, now I will require your help in getting to my feet," with that Dumbledore held out an outstretched hand and Harry pulled with all his might.

While the tall wizard returned to a standing position, a muggle chose to wake up and screamed. Abruptly, a dozen or so strands of magic became tangled and fused together, creating an utterly malevolent sensation that caused a fierce burning in his soul. To their greatest shock, the brick façade of one of the buildings began steaming and started to melt, dripping hot liquid glass onto the unconscious muggles below.

A splatter landed on one man's face and he screamed his skin was suddenly boiled and split from his flesh but immediately grew silent as it melted through his brain. Numerous other splatters landed on others and they woke from their slumber, some losing their lives while others lost limbs or became permanently disfigured. A shield erupted around Harry and Dumbledore, preventing them from befalling the same fate but they couldn't expand their protection to the helpless muggles. Dumbledore had already begun to Summon and Transfigure, but it was happening all too quickly. Harry emulated his mentor though his Transfiguration provided no help. Dumbledore was creating large rocks or steel barriers while Harry barely managed create a tin barrier.

But it was all for naught as the other building around them befell the same fate, glass and iron structure dripped hell on the panicked and dying mass below, while two shielded men could not stop the destruction. Dumbledore glanced at him with determination and pointed his wand at the building nearest to them.

"Harry, I need to you keep up the shield. Pour your determination, your knowledge, and your perception into it. We cannot afford to falter here," with that, Dumbledore spun his wand and pointed and jabbed wildly at the rapidly decaying building.

Harry followed his instructions and was constantly modifying the shield, creating opposite sensations to the magic and the physical nature of the dripping brick. The knowledge of certain charms, spells and counters zipped through his head and into his wand. He pulled their individual theory and feel and molded them into a constantly varying shield. He also thought of the cool water from rain and to his surprise the shield took on a fluid appearance, mirroring his thoughts while some of the closest droplets of brick turned into splashes of hot rain. It was a tough task and one which seemed it would be impossible to replicate in the heat of battle.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore began Transfiguring the building to a cold, dark steel which seemed to work at first, causing the look to creep up to the top of the building. Suddenly, as the steel made contact with melting part of the brick, the steel began melting as well, hot metal slowly running down the side of the wall. In anguish, Dumbledore sent a spell at it, intending to pulverize the wall into nothingness. It worked but the debris melting as well and landed all around them, causing a new torrent of screams. Mere moments after the Explosion Hex left the former headmaster's wand, Dumbledore collapsed while gripping his head.

"Professor," Harry cried out with alarm.

Dumbledore raised his head and looked at him weakly, blood trickling out of his nose.

"Harry, we must retreat," suddenly Dumbledore's azure eyes widened and with the last bit of strength, jumped to his feet.

He tackled Harry right as his perception shifted, the very area becoming more dangerous than it was before. Fawkes exploded with crimson flame, right as the air vibrated with dangerous intent and the pavement rumbled. They vanished in the span between heartbeats and in doing so, escaped the exploding gas line below them. The entire area, melting buildings and dying or dead muggles, was annihilated, sending carnage and chaos throughout London. A group of children and parents a couple of streets over were knocked to their feet as flesh and solid metal rained down upon them.

They burst into flame in the middle of the Dursley's living room where Harry's unpleasant relatives had just finished with supper and were in the middle of watching the news. Thinking their living had exploded, the Dursleys screamed and threw themselves on the ground. Realizing the danger had passed, Vernon lifted his head and looked at the sight before him. When his mind made the connection, the blood pooled from his face, leaving a rather large yet pale man in its place. Having spent all of his energy, Dumbledore's weight dropped into him and it took all of Harry's strength to prevent them from falling.

"Professor, can you make it to the couch," Harry asked, panting with effort.

"You'll have to help me there, Harry," Dumbledore responded, his voice so weak that Harry had to strain to hear the man.

It was only a few steps but it was tougher than it appeared. Harry leaned into the couch, dumping the man roughly on it. He coughed and turned his head to give one last command. A wrinkly hand reached and grabbed him firmly in the arm, and Dumbledore commanded him with the last of his reserves.

"I must rest. Meanwhile, do not leave house," Dumbledore then slumped and his eyes closed.

"What the bloody hell is going on in my house," Vernon demanded, somehow losing his paleness once he realized he was alone with his nephew. The characteristic shade of red was returning to his thick neck while his wife and son watched in shock.

"I trust you have seen the news," Harry asked, trying to emulate Dumbledore's calmness.

"You're a freak murderer," Dudley proclaimed, not thinking about what he was saying. Petunia leapt up to her feet with panic and clamped her hand around Dudley's mouth. She looked at Harry with fear while Vernon was starting to do the opposite.

"I am not," the calmness left his voice and he felt quite childlike as the retort left his mouth. "Despite what you saw on the television, I'm innocent. We both are and we need a place to stay."

He nodded at the unconscious Dumbledore but Vernon finally exploded.

"Innocent or not, you and that meddling man are not staying in my house! Do you know what we been through, boy? We were shopping on a lovely evening when we were detained on our way home by bloody special operations officers."

"They had wicked guns," Dudley added, causing Vernon to send a rare glare at his son.

"They had guns pointed at us, Potter! Guns, here in England! They took us respected, law-abiding citizens to some nameless facility and placed effing bags over our heads. Then they asked us questions, questions about you," Vernon snarled, pointed a fat finger at Harry.

"We didn't have any information and then we realized, we could tell them about your freakiness. They'd think we're loony and chuck us in with the bloody psychopaths. Since we couldn't answer any questions about you, to protect ourselves from the shrinks and your government, they thought we were hiding something."

Vernon to a step towards Harry, his finger now pointed on his chest.

"They were going to bring us up on charges and then do you know what happened, do you Potter?"

Harry shook his head, unsure how to respond to Vernon's tirade. Petunia offered him no help as she looked at him with fear.

"We were dragged off by you freaks, masquerading as a special operations team. I'd realize I had recognized the black one before, from the station. They began questioning me as if I knew your whereabouts. I told him he knew better than I did and he nearly took off my head with his fist. Then, they had the audacity of interrogating Petunia and Dudley before unceremoniously dumping us here without saying a word. The black one had a letter for us but I told him he could shove it up his arse."

Vernon was breathing quite heavily and appeared so purple, Harry was certain he was going to have a stroke. But then the man spoke once more and this time, he demanded the impossible.

"We've sheltered you for all your life out of the kindness of you Aunt's heart but I've had enough of you people. You are to take that man and take him out of our house and do not come back. You are not welcome here and if you don't leave, all it takes is one phone call and then you and your people can determine the outcome. So kindly, get the fuck out of my house, Potter," Vernon emphasized his point by jabbing his finger in Harry's chest, provoking his ire. The telly was blabbering on about something but Harry paid it no heed.

"Vernon, look at the telly," Petunia began but was interrupted as Harry placed his wand under Vernon's chin.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Uncle. See," Harry said, his emerald eyes became as hard as diamonds. "I've orders to follow and until Dumbledore wakes up, we're going nowhere and you will not do anything about it. The Ministry, mine and yours, is after us for a crime we did not commit. With the charges on my head, what's to stop me from casting a few spells?"

Harry dug the wand deeper into Vernon's neck, causing him to walk backwards until he hit his chair and fell into it. The world was becoming red tinted with his anger and his pulse was dangerously high, causing a vein in his neck to bulge.

"So, we will be staying here until Dumbledore wakes up and then we will be out of your life and you can do as you please. Until then, you need to make every effort to make sure I don't find it tempting to experiment with the new spells I learned," with that Harry twirled his wand, making sure Vernon understood.

"Harry, what have you done," Petunia asked, her eyes wide with fear. But her gaze wasn't directed at him, rather it was directed at the television, at something the news was talking about.

The scene depicted by the news station was shocking. If Dumbledore hadn't reacted in time, they would have been in there with the twisted, burning buildings which looked like they had been through Dresden. His mind became numb as he realized they would be blamed for this, while the caption read, "Terrorists Strike in the Heart of London." Seeing the casualty toll caused his feelings to return, and then he remembered their twisted, seared off flesh. Abruptly, his stomach gave a great lurch and he empted the contents of his stomach.

Petunia left to the kitchen, while Harry waved his wand at the offending mess and Vanished it. He turned his eyes to the television once more.

"We now bring you to an emergency news conference at 10 Downing. The Prime Minister has decided to make a statement."

The camera changed views to a recognizable black painted steel door with the number 10 on it. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood in the background, most likely having been assigned to protect the Prime Minister.

"That's him. That's the bastard who didn't give me the decency to explain what was going on," Vernon pointed a finger but Harry ignored him as the Prime Minister entered the screen.

"No," Harry whispered, green eyes wide with shock.

A tall, aged, yet somewhat handsome man with dark hair and dark eyes glanced back at him through the television. He was dressed in a fine black suit and which matched his rather grim look. The reporters were now silent as the man began addressing the nation.

"It is with the deepest regret that I, Tom Riddle, the recently elected Prime Minister of England, give to those who have lost a loved one in this cowardly act of terrorism…"


End file.
